Reading Response 2

As I read further into Malachy McCourt’s memoir, A monk swimming, the most ports I like about this book is the strong quotes he says. There’s also something he talks about where he keeps saying how the English Crushed the Irish. He says this because Malachy is Irish. I like how he’s song goes. “ ‘Twas on a dreary New Year’s Day, As the shades of night came down A lorry load of volunteers Approached a border town. There were men from Dublin, and from Cork, Fermanagh and Tyrone, But the leader was a Limerick man, Sean South of Garryowen. As they moved along the street, Up to the barrack door, They scorned the danger they would meet The fate that lay in store. They were fightin’ fer old Ireland’s cause, To claim their very own, And the foremost of that gallant band, Was south of Garryowen. But the sergeant foiled their daring plan, He spied them through the door, Then the Sten guns and the rifles, A bail of death did pour, And when thet awful night was o’er, Two man lay cold as stone. There was on from near the Border, And one from Garryowen. No more he’ll hear the seagull cry, O’er the murmuring Sannon tide, For he fell beneath the Northern sky, Brave Hanlon at his side. He has gone to join that gallant band, Of Plunkett, Pearse, and Tone, A martyr for old Ireland, Sean South of Garryowen.” He sang about this song about how he had a childhood friend.