It was as fine a churchful as you ever clapt an eye on;
Oh, the bells was ringin’ gaily, and the sun was shinin’
free;
There was singers, there was clargy--“Bless ye both,”
says Father Tryon--
They was weddin’ Mary Callaghan and me.
There was gatherin’ of women, there was hush upon the
stairway,
There was whisperin’ and smilin’, but it was no place
for me;
A little ship was comin’ into harbour through the
fairway--
It belongs to Mary Callaghan and me.
Shure, the longest day has endin’, and the wildest storm
has fallin’--
There’s a young gossoon in yander, and he sits upon
my knee;
There’s a churchful for the christenin’--do you hear
the imp a-callin’?
He’s the pride of Mary Callaghan and me.