Oh, weather clerk, oh why hast thou
On this, this one day of all days
Quenched by thy clouds the sun’s warm rays
And ben on us a frowning brow?
To-day we should have walked for miles
Upon the heath and down the lanes,
Among the hills, over the plains,
And opened gates and climbed o’er stiles;
Gone looking for the heather white,
And sought the sky-lark’s hidden nest
Upon the hill tops, looked with zest
Upon the landscape from a height.
We should have topped each noble peak
And added to the cairns our stones;
We should have suffered weary bones,
But joy we should not have to seek.
We might have seen a hawk up-rise
To hover in the lofty blue;
We might like Cortez have a view
To fill us with a wild surmise.
Last night we made such careful plans,
And joyously mapped out our route;
We planned the food we’d take, the fruit,
The spirit stove, the little pans.
Here we would eat our lunch, and there,
When we had traversed miles, our tea;
But morning dawned in misery,
And gloom was settled everywhere.
Come, heap the fire! Throw on more wood!
We’ll chase the gloom with leaping flames.
We’ll have some ‘round-the-table’ games
That will induce a festive mood.
But when I hold my hand of cards
I seem to see in diamonds red
Diamonds at sea from Bradda Head,
Spades turn my thoughts the soil towards.
And clubs are like those berries jet
That grace the brambled hedges thick,
And hearts remind me life is quick,
And every card has its regret.
To-morrow is another day
And who knows what is then in store?
Deal round the hands, make fast the door,
Life is a game, so let us play!