Helen Coale Crew

WHERE the highway steps along

(In Donegal, in Donegal!)

I gave my feet the choice o’ way, wherever they would roam.

They might have marched to Londonderry, Belfast, Dublin …

The foolish, eager feet o’ me, they marched straight home!

The little gown o’ blue you wore

(In Donegal, in Donegal!)

Cried out to me, Come in! Come in! Your apron it said, Stay!

The tying o’ the plaid shawl across the warm heart o’ you

Tied in-along the heart o’ me—I couldn’t get away.

I took off my wander-shoes,

(In Donegal, in Donegal!)

The highway stepped along alone, until it slipped from view.

I laid aside my dusty dreams, hung up my ragged lifetime,

And rested feet and heart o’ me before the sight o’ you!