Wine, Water and Song

<h2><SPAN class="pagenum" name="Page_45" title="45"> </SPAN>Me Heart</h2> <div class="poetry width32"> <div class="stanza"> <div class="line"><span class="upper-case">I come</span> from Castlepatrick, and me heart is on me sleeve,<br/></div> <div class="line">And any sword or pistol boy can hit it with me leave,<br/></div> <div class="line">It shines there for an epaulette, as golden as a flame,<br/></div> <div class="line">As naked as me ancestors, as noble as me name.<br/></div> <SPAN class="pagenum" name="Page_46" title="46"> </SPAN><div class="line">For I come from Castlepatrick, and me heart is on me sleeve,<br/></div> <div class="line">But a lady stole it from me on St. Gallowglass's Eve.<br/></div> </div><div class="stanza"> <div class="line">The folk that live in Liverpool, their heart is in their boots;<br/></div> <div class="line">They go to hell like lambs, they do, because the hooter hoots.<br/></div> <div class="line">Where men may not be dancin', though the wheels may dance all day;<br/></div> <div class="line">And men may not be smokin'; but only chimneys may.<br/></div> <SPAN class="pagenum" name="Page_47" title="47"> </SPAN><div class="line">But I come from Castlepatrick, and me heart is on me sleeve,<br/></div> <div class="line">But a lady stole it from me on St. Poleander's Eve.<br/></div> </div><div class="stanza"> <div class="line">The folk that live in black Belfast, their heart is in their mouth,<br/></div> <div class="line">They see us making murders in the meadows of the South;<br/></div> <div class="line">They think a plough's a rack, they do, and cattle-calls are creeds,<br/></div> <div class="line">And they think we're burnin' witches when we're only burnin' weeds;<br/></div> <SPAN class="pagenum" name="Page_48" title="48"> </SPAN><div class="line">But I come from Castlepatrick, and me heart is on me sleeve;<br/></div> <div class="line">But a lady stole it from me on St. Barnabas's Eve.<br/></div> </div></div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />