Anne Mullane

In life few of us do share a similar destiny Anne Mullane was a person much younger than me And though of her i knew her i did not get to know Though we were both raised in the place of the silver back crow We all have our different journeys in life To Matt Murphy of Kilworth she became the wife The pipe of the curlew never more for to hear Above Coolikerane Bog in the Spring of the year As time goes hers was not a very long span The Reaper of lives did come early to Anne Some live to be old and some do die young But the praises of every good person ought to be sung In Spring in the field where the rushes do grow Never more for to hear the male pheasant cuck and crow Or hear the lark singing as upwards he does fly A musical speck in the gray of the sky We are born to mortality on this we do not have a say And on all of our lives time is ticking away And far from Coolikerane where she first saw light of day The last remains of Anne Murphy nee Mullane does lay.