Comments about Thomas Davis
There flows from her spirit such love and delight,
That the face of Blind Mary is radiant with light-
As the gleam from a homestead through darkness will show
Or the moon glimmer soft through the fast falling snow.
Yet there's a keen sorrow comes o'er her at times,
As an Indian might feel in our northerly climes!
And she talks of the sunset, like parting of friends,
And the starlight, as love, that not changes nor ends.