Blind Murty and the dog Roisin

BLIND MURTY


Blind Murty the fiddler
Sees only a fog,
So he travels the roads
With a seeing eye dog

She’s a fine looking greyhound,
Name of Roisin,
As sleek as an eel
And proud as a queen.

Roisin and Blind Murty
Are always a pair,
She’s won many a race,
She can outrun any hare.

One time Blind Murty
Was in a bad way,
Sick with a fever,
And sleeping on hay.

Two days without food
And no one to call,
It looked like Blind Murty
Wouldn’t make it at all.

Then his dog up and left him,
A crueler blow
Fate couldn’t devise –
It laid him so low.

Night fell and he called her,
But she didn’t appear,
Something bad had befallen
His Roisin, he feared.

As the morning sun rose
He longed for some meat –
He could have dined on mud soup
And found the taste sweet.

Sitting up in his haystack,
He looked down the road,
And saw something moving,
All weary and bowed.

It was Roisin, paws bleeding,
From many a mile,
Seeking food for her master
And she’d made it worthwhile.

Half the size of herself
Was the hare that she found
And dragged back to her master,
That faithful greyhound.

They feasted that morning
Like kings of old time.
That’s Roisin and Blind Murty,
And the end of my rhyme.