Francis Duggan Poems

Some religious people do look on as odd
Those who do not believe in the existence of God
They refuse to believe that in an atheist you'll find
A person who can be quite good and kind
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Though to the one God everyone does not pray
God helps those who help themselves the more cynical say
But in what they do say there is truth to be found
Since in the Human World greed does seem to abound.
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The years have left him looking gray
And time on his life ticking away
He is not a wise man 'twould appear
And his wife seems a silly old dear.
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If you look for evil good you cannot see
For your eyes only tell you what they want you in others to see
Of good and bad races you keep telling me
But your opinions are different to mine we see things differently.
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The music of O Carolan I have loved for many years
So sad and yet so beautiful it reduces one to tears
The poor blind harper of the County Meath is one many tend to under-rate
As a composer of beautiful music he is one we ought to celebrate
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From Murray Bridge to the suburbs the road winds up and down
And the rolling hills of Adelaide have never looked so brown
A humid evening in autumn around 23 degrees
The sun is clouded over and scarce a puff of breeze.
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We've not seen much sunshine since tenth day of May
And it has been the worst Summer for making hay
But God is much kinder the old fellow say
And we'll all meet in Cullen on Latiarian day.
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We left old Melbourne City in the darkness
And the northbound train stopped at each rural town
And a gray dawn broke as we neared outer Sydney
This Land now green has often been so brown.
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Somethings from childhood till old age remain
And old Joe returns to his youth again
By stream between the hedgerow and the old dirt track
He often stood and watched the stickleback.
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We've sat listening all the evening to those oft sung melodies
And if you feel like singing mister sing us Songs of Sherbrooke please
Sing us Songs of Sherbrooke mister and let us hear the mountain breeze
Soughing softly in Kallista in those majestic gum trees.
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