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Boxing Day Oh, Boxing Day is the greatest time of the year But I am consumed in grief and sadness The old sacred hymns are not heard around me That would lift my spirits when I was a little girl. I don' t drink the health of friends or relations Or the bright royal star in the eastern sky Since my children died beneath the ravenous ice And left me without senses, or spirit, or mind. The day was cold and the river hard enough But she wasn' t sleeping as peacefully as it seemed She was lying in wait like a coiled serpent Listening for the footfalls of her young prey. Three of my sons were to go to Pembroke To fetch some relations who were coming by train And my youngest was whining and crying Till he was allowed to go with them, alas. They never made Pembroke for their destination And it wasn't long before the black hole in the ice was found That the old truck and my four sons fell through And a black hole was cut through my heart, alas. At night I would walk the river sadly Keening dolefully and cursing God, Hatless and coatless, no shoes on my feet With bloody tracks behind me in the snow. No sight of my children's bodies With the ice over them like a great headstone And thus it remained till the breakup came And they were raised out of the frozen tomb of the river. What was before me but my youngest son And his arms around the neck of his brother Strong men who were hauling the woeful burden Cried at the sight of the bodies. The only son that is left to me The fruit of my womb that God has not taken He wasn't at home on the day of my great sorrow But in uniform in Europe. He has four fine strong sons since he has married My most beloved grandsons Named after the poor young brothers Who died long ago in the river together. |
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