Farewell Lines
To my late Comrades R.I.C. Barracks, Arva, County Cavan.
By Request
I have bidden farewell to scenes that are bright,
To friends that have proved true and tried.
To comrades staunch, for their esprit de corps
I would challenge all Ireland so wide.
How I miss the jokes each morn on parade,
And how Jas would an attitude strike,
As he'd expatiate on teetotal views,
Or Tom's yarns of huge trout and pike.
The swift-stirring strains that were wakened by Tom
On his violin sweet too, I miss,
How the kitchen flags, and O'Hara's quick heels
Would merrily meet, and kiss;
Or O'Connor holding the schoolmaster fast,
As you'd hold a hound in a leash,
Would blunder around in a good natured way,
In a polka, or Highland Schottische.
Poor Michael, I trust you are hearty and strong
and pedalling round once again;
Ere you get on your cycle in future take care
To adjust your saddle and chain.
And (ahem) if you'd take an old comrade's advice
Don't ride soon after you dine,
It might develop this cyclist's complaint,
And result in a curve of the spine.
I shall never forget last winter's campaign,
How often we trudged through the snow,
Well fortified, both within and without,
Our vigils to keep at Drumcrow;
And how we “performed through Tyenaker field”
Or “along the Ballinagh road”,
How I long thence again with the acting to jog
Around by Shaun Foddha's abode.
Though far away from those bright scenes to-day,
On my mind the sweetest thoughts throng
Of the station and men I have left far behind
And the man at the wheel, Sergeant Long.
May they never know trouble, or sorrow, or care,
But have joy and content to the end,
And from Fortune's bounty preferment to each,
Is the wish of their now absent friend.
Joe Latimer, R.I.C., Stranooden, Co. Monaghan
September 30th, 1893
