Old Banteer Poem by Francis Duggan

He always talks when he's had a few beers
About Duhallow of his younger years
And Banteer where he grew to be a man
And from where the journey south for him began.

He worked for farmers since he was teenage boy
No matter what the weather wet or dry
And there was no such thing as an easy day
And plenty overtime not matched by pay.

Back in those days teenagers did the work of men
And he often left the fields drenched to the skin
Without change of clothes he worked through hail and rain
And memories of such hardships with him still remain.

In Autumn days he worked in threshing yard
Piking sheafs of corn to thresher that was hard
Through the long days from morning till nightfall
He laboured hard for wages far too small.

But he was young then coming to his prime
And he was looking forward to that time
When he would have a few pounds with his fare
To board the boat for Fishguard at Rosslare.

One January morning forty six years ago
The fields by the Blackwater white with snow
He walked to the station in the sleety rain
Bound for Rosslare he took the morning train.

And with Winter weather at it's most severe
On that morning in January fifty six he left Banteer
For months on end he had yearned for places new
And he was young then only twenty two.

He lived and worked in London for a few years he say
And still he yearned for places far away
And just three weeks before Christmas in fifty nine
He walked off ship into Port Melbourne's warm sunshine.

His son and daughter now are in their prime
And he's a granddad for the second time
He show his years his hair is silver gray
And he's first to admit he has had his day.

On saturday evening down at the pub he drinks his beer
The man well known to some as Old Banteer
He talks of home and sing 'Bold Thady Quill'
A song from boyhood he remember still.

The fields by the Blackwater white with snow
When he left Banteer forty six years ago
And perhaps right now his would look a strange face
Back in Duhallow in the old home place.