Poems of Johnny
Burns
These poems were submitted by
Bill
and form part of the
Donegal
Genealogy Resources website
You may link to this page but not
copy it
Notes:
These poems were composed by Johnny Burns back in
the 1940's. Johnny lived near Lifford and as a lad worked on various farms.
He would write poems about what he saw - he even
put them into a little booklet and sold them for a few pence
Thanks to Bill, on whose father's farm Johnny
worked at one time, six of his poems can be presented here
Please note that these poems have been copied a
lot of times and some of the rhyming words may not be just right
THE ELMWOOD GHOST
Note: This poem is supposed to be a ghost in
Bill's family home "Elmwood." His father said that in one room the
ceiling had fallen and the door was locked, so no one ever went into
that room - hence the ghost story
Elmwood is a quiet place thats free from
noise and din
Beside old Clady Village not far from
Castlefin
And tourists on the roadway can view the Elm
trees
How their crooked branches dance and sway
before the Western breeze
Close by is an orchard where the apples first get ripe
There are pear trees, plum trees and trees of
every type
The avenue is delightful with its flowers on
every side
And the mighty castle rare to see stands
looking down with pride
This castle was erected in the bygone days of
yore
By some old wealthy squire in 1784
And its haunted by a ghost as most all people
know
By some murdered man long dreary years ago
It was a country residence for fifty years or more
Of a captain bold, as I am told, who drove in
a coach and four
This warlike man with sword in hand one dismal
winter's night
When after some hard fighting put ten highway
men to flight
But one of them fell wounded, one of the robbers band
And he was hanged upon a tree at the Captains
stern command
And since that night this ghost appears as
most all people say
Beside the tunnel entrance to chase all
earthly men away
One night he struck big Charlie Leitch and down big Charlie fell
Like Lucifer descending to the burning pits
of Hell
The next he struck was Donald Rogan who fell
and broke his knee
He went down stern foremost like a sinking
ship at sea
This ghost is no loving charmer for the ones he nightly roams
One
night he met a farmer, a farmer surnamed Holmes
As he was passing by him he spit upon his face
When he met him on the laneway which is a
lonesome place
With flying feet Holmes he did retreat, the truth I must declare
For
the ghost did hunt him home that night as a greyhound hunts a Hare
As
the ghost would not conduct himself the Peelers got on his tail
Where he got himself six months to rest in gloomy Derry Jail.
Now the ghost from prison is released and no more he'll try to kill
Mc
Cormick has given him a bed in the famous old Scutch Mill
To
guard that well known orchard, to watch it night and day
To
charge all apple stealers and chase them all away
So all you garden proggers a warning take from me
As
I am not a lawyer my advice is given free
Never say what you can do and of course do not boast
Until you see if you can fool this fearless fighting ghost.
Johnny Burns
The
vale of Finn is golden, it is free from noise and strife
Where I first came into action on the battlefield of life
Along the woodland shores of Finn beside old Clady town
A
chocolate factory has been built by a lawyer of the crown
The
set of this great factory is hidden much from view
By
Urney trees that fought the breeze since the reign of Brian Boru
A
castle bright stands near the site where an engine is heard to din
And
just below is seen to flow the silent waves of Finn
This castle was erected as most all people know
By
some unknown clergyman two hundred years ago
And
since that time some Holy men lived and passed away
And
each was loyal to the act of Fitt and Castlereagh
The last to leave I do believe it was his own goodwill
He
did prefer a smaller house near Herdmans, Sion Mill
He
was known to all as a godly man that never did no crime
He
had in store the books of yore and bibles of all time
The owner of the castle was a man of toilents trim
And
work and punctuality are much admired by him
He
has lately built this factory which is so high and grand
There's not another like it on the four shores of our land
The masons were skilled tradesmen that served o'er the foam
Mc
Ginn built in Moscow and Campbell built in Rome
Canavan made a masons name for from the banks of Finn
He
built a mighty castle for the Kaiser in Berlin
Noteworthy was young Donnell, he commands the masons trade
He
can show how bricks and mortar should be laid
A
brainy man the plasterer who did the walls adorn
And
he was surnamed Kennedy, such a man was never born
The roof was somewhat difficult as powerful was the span
But
it was thoroughly well conducted by a joiner from Strabane
He
was well assisted in his work as far as I could see
By
a sailor lad who in weather bad did scour the wildest sea
Now the Irish boring company are boring for a stream
Of
some unknown river to supply the want of steam
To
find a spring beneath a rock they lately have resolved
But
awkward is the problem, it yet remains unsolved
Excellent are the chocolates and the sweets have won renown
Made by charming Colleens from the hillside and the town
There are maidens there from everywhere, from Clady and Drumbane
From Drumdriot and Skelpie, Inchancy and Strabane
Every morning early I see them rushing in
A
few of them the Pile bridge cross that spans the river Finn
Mr
Mc Nulty is doing the best he can
To
sell those famous chocolates in a giant motor van
He sells them all through Ulster and as far away as Louth
And
the business is well managed by a lady from the South
The
mainspring of them is a public known man
A
famed D.L. for Donegal and a J.P. for Strabane
He walks around the factory ground and keeps in constant touch
With a few of the willing boys for fear they do too much
These chocolate sweets have a welcome found far from the Emerald Isle
Because they were made at Urney factory---where nature seems to smile
In
future years to come Irelands boast and pride
Will be of this great factory along Finn water's side
Johnny Burns
It was on a winters night somewhere on Clady street
That two of Irelands champions in a great contest did meet
These Irishmen were drinking for some time at the bar
When after some hot argument they agreed to have a spar
Mc Kinney went out like a policeman on patrol
To
decide the fate of him so great, I mean Big Harry Sproule
Harry he went out with one great tiger spring
For
Irishmen were always first and foremost in the ring
Before the fight began Sproule said, "remember John"
"I
never was the man to run when fighting must be done"
"Well", said John "Now Harry I may now tell you straight
There never came from Tullymoan a man I couldn't beat"
At this the battle started and for awhile they fenced
When after some manoevuring a brutal fight commenced
Mc
Kinney he went rushing in and tried a left hand clinch
But
Harry stood determined not staggering half an inch
Harry somewhat lost his head and putting out his foot
He
landed in poor Mc Kinney a brutal uppercut
Mc
Kinney he fell senseless upon the frozen ground
And
the look on Sproule did terrify the lads who stood around
Harry fought so quickly he did his hands control
I
thought it was Jack Johnston and not big Harry Sproule
Though Mc Kinney was knocked out he fought with skill and pluck
He
was active as Jim Corbett till the fatal blow was struck
So Irishmen be careful wherever that you be
Never say you can fight until you try and see
Always keep your temper and don't lose self control
For in a simple contest you might meet a Harry Sproule
Strabane glen is a lovely place that has won high renoun
In
a valley low near Knock A Voe that hill so high and brown
Close beside is Foyle's bright tide where many bridges span
It
runs along the Kings highway from Derry to Strabane
Croughan hill so calm and still stands gazing over all
And
far away on the horizon are the hills of Donegal
Thousands come from other lands this hallowed spot to see
Hamilton's Leap, the London House and the Lordly Cottage Lea
But
time brings many changes and the spoilers hand is seen
To
cut down all the Oak trees that were often dressed in green
The
rabbits and the badgers must find another den
Desolation stares the face of their old home, the glen
The
Magpie in the Fir tree will lose her ancient nest
And
weary Rooks returning home won't have their glen to rest
But
cruel men oft takes the life he never can restore
And
gone the Pigeon and the Owl, gone to return no more
But
father time saw many a crime through all the ages past
And
now his eyes gaze with surprise on Rankin from Belfast
Rankin sharped his cruel tools and sent his cruel men
And
told them to cut all the trees in Strabane's romantic glen
This noble place for scenery unequalled throughout the land
Where visitors are always seen upon its slopes so grand
I've seen the Lakes of Killarney and I've kissed the Blarney stone
But
Irelands parlour I have seen in the County of Tyrone
Strange scenes are witnessed every day by touring girls and boys
When they see the mighty Oak trees fall and hear the crashing noise
They say it is wrong to cut the trees, they complain of it day and
daily
Some of them blame Rankin while others blame Colonel Bailey
They blame not the butchers that come here to toil
Mc
Brearty from Cavan and Boyd from Glensmoyle
Nor
Mc Granaghan from Rosagiernor Evans from Porthall
All's blamed on Rankin when they hear the trees fall
It
would make a pig laugh to see how they run
How
they all keep away from Hattrick and Quinn
Its
the fate of myself to work with these men
and
assist them in cutting this historic old glen
Gaffer Joe is here to show to cut the trees with skill
And
Jack O' Brien with a lorry fine soon hauls them to the mill
Next are the fearless horsemen that everyone enjoys
When the gypsy's tail blows in the gale you'll hear the Mc Elroys
They are the finest horsemen that ever I did see
They jumped Hamilton's leap so high and steep beside the Cottage Lea
And
I can'tforget young Doherty that lives beside the glen
Also Hughie Gallagher both skillful timber men
To
cut the trees that fought the breeze in many a winter's blast
They entered in the service of Rankin from Belfast
The
Strabane Urban Council, all educated men
Are
very much to blame, I think, for the cutting of the glen
Had
they increased the rates a halfpenny in the pound
They could have paid a man to guard this blossom of their town
The
stronghold of their sires, O' Hanlon and his men
In
natures face there's no such place as Strabane's romantic glen.
Strabane's a town in a valley down that nature seems to hide
As
Knock A Voe and Croghan hills guarded on every side
You
can hear the shiver of Mourne river that for long ages ran
Before the world was civilized or the birth of old Strabane
No tongue can tell, no pen can write, nor any voice of man
Describe the scenery that surrounds the valley of strabane
Some of its famous buildings are famous far and wide
And
daily through it thoroughfare the motor buses glide
It
may not be much out of place though you may think it is a lie
The
moon has trouble passing these buildings great and high
Some of these structures were built long long ago
The
best and modern of them all is the famous G.P.O.
Once at the tower of Babel when still the world was young
Was
first checked man's ambition by confusion of his tongue
But
here we built a Temple where man's thoughts pass through to man
All
by our honest labour at Castle Street Strabane
What are the ancient Pyramids, what but a hiding hole
Built by a nations labour for dead bones without a soul
What are Forts and Castles even of noblest plan
Compared with what our toil has raised in Castle Street Strabane
The contractors are well known men and I'll mention them by name
They were the brothers Collins and from Portadown they came
The
foreman was Tracey a man you seldom find
His
great and active brain soon finds the wisest plan
In
solving crooked problems in Castle Street Strabane
His
voice was like a Lion's and his temper quick you see
And
his presence ne'er was pleasant for big Johnny Goan and me
We were some of the willing boys and this he always new
The
step of Goan was like my own, he was dodging Tracey too
Carlin was a soldier who fought the German foe
He
little cared for Tracey when at the G.P.O.
Meehan Quinn and other lads laboured like a man
And
showed that they were sons of toil in Castle Street Strabane
Milligan was the clerk of works a man of much renoun
Who
spent a period of his life with the forces of the Crown
In the Donegal Artillery this man of talent rare
When the Union was flourishing he was a captain there
More worthy were the joiners for the splendid part they played
They showed they were masters of St. Joseph's noble trade
Don't think they were professionals brought from a foreign land
The
both did hail from Main Street and Railway Street Strabane
The
masons were skilled tradesmen as everyone should know
No
man unskilled could ever build at this famous G.P.O.
O' Connell was a Derry man with a reputation great
And
the only man as good as he was found in the Free State
His
name is Frank Mc Corkell and he is known to one and all
He
lives near ancient Castlefin in County Donegal
Johnny Burns
Coolislin near Castlefin is known from near and far
And there now resides on that bleak hillside a
man named Robert Barr
I have know this man for fifty years or at
least about three score
And I think his age is Eighty or maybe a
little more
When but a youth to tell the truth I hear the people say
He crossed the Foyle to slave and toil, in
Scotland far away
It was his great ambition to scale the heights
of fame
And soon his bright intelligence did make for
him a name
He was not long in Glasgow, I mean for to explain
When to assist in a Beer Shop was the job he
did obtain
His first job was in a cellar, thats just what
I did hear
Bottling Stout and Brandy and Whisky strong
and clear
But working in a cellar was not the place for him
He was business like and active, a salesman
smart and trim
And soon he got promoted, with Two pounds his
weekly wage
As Great Britain's finest barman at twenty
years of age
The rowdies fought when in they got but he opposed their war
If they did not drink they got clink from the
shop of Robert Barr
He was not long a barman when he scored the
final goal
The owner died and to his pride left him in
full control
He was not long in chief command when he was asked to change his life
The deceased employers widow she wished to be
his wife
But Robert said he ne'er would wed, such was a
cruel fate
So to the Great Republic he soon did emigrate
The widow sighed and the widow cried but he told her she could weep
As in the gale he did set sail across the
ocean deep
The only one he bade farewell was his handsome
sister Ann
Who wished him future happiness when in a
foreign land
She said she hoped to change her name before he did come back
If she did not get a white man she would
surely get a b****
He had a splendid voyage sailing over the
ocean blue
And Robert seemed bewildered how fast the
vessel flew
When the ship arrived at New York, they anchored near the shore
And with pride he viewed the lady Yanks he had
never seen before
The were all casting sheep eyes at him as it
is their usual job
When they get interested in an Irish lad like
Bob
When he landed on the shore he soon made up his mind
To go straight to a Northern State a position
for to find
But far off fields looks green as Robert oft
told me
And Yankee land is not the land it was always
thought to be
So to return to Ireland Robert felt inclined
For the Yankees moved like paper men before a
gale of wind
And as old age was creeping on he sailed back
o'er the foam
to Coolislin near Castlefin to end his life at
home
He was fully satisfied life's problem was
solved
So to die where his ancestors died he finally
resolved.
Johnny Burns.
One sunny day I chanced to stray from well
known Clady town
The Autumn was approaching and the harvest
fields were brown
I took the path that I had trod a thousand
times before
Down by the silent waves of finn, along
the grassy shore
The walk it was delightful in the cool
refreshing breeze
The valley seemed a paradise with Urney's
green robed trees
The cows were in the meadows that glorious
Autumn day
And the sheep were gently grazing on
Ballybogan Brae
Some youthful boys did make a noise, they kept a constant din
Beside the mighty Pile bridge that spans
the river Finn
I soon did join the juveniles and far I
did not tramp
I sat down upon the hillock where
soldiers used to camp
As we sat there that evening fair close to the river side
A pretty boat came sailing up in all her
stately pride
With anxious eyes we watched the boat as
it appeared in view
And all of us soon recognized the Captain
and the crew
That Captain was a man that's very well known to all
He lived near ancient Lifford town in the
County Donegal
This little boat was manned with a
seaman's power and skill
And some of the crew I know well came from
Curley Hill
From the Curley Hill two maidens came to have a pleasant trip
And they were the only passengers on board
that little ship
One of the maidens was a poetess as I
could plainly see
And in the boat there lay as she wrote of
the valley's scenery
Nature seemed to smile on her as she wrote
the recitation
And Urney trees before the breeze swayed
down in salutation
No stormy wave was heard to rave, no
salmon dared to leap
To disturb that thoughtful poetess when
sailing o'er the deep
The setting sun was sinking fast behind
the western hill
Then homeward bound, the boat turned round
and sailed for Curley Hill.