Do you remember, darling, the springtime of our years,
The passion, the tensions, the laughter, and some fears?
We planted love together and tended it with care
And we faced into our seasons, uncertain what lay…
The ballad tells the story of one victim of Colonial 'justice', where a sentence without compassion compounded the misery of the Famine by cruel application of the law.
For two hundred years its stood,
Among the Wicklow hills,
The source of people's hopes,
The cure for many ills.
It was built by Fr Blanchfield,
With faith and a hundred pound,
And it is fitting that there he rests,
Inside the church he…