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Danny Boy Quotes
Quotes tagged as "danny-boy"
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“But when ye come, and all the flowers are dying,
If I am dead, as dead I well may be,
You'll come and find the place where I am lying,
And kneel and say Ave there for me,
And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me,
And all my grave will warmer, sweeter be,
For you will bend and tell me that you love me,
And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me”
―
If I am dead, as dead I well may be,
You'll come and find the place where I am lying,
And kneel and say Ave there for me,
And I shall hear, though soft you tread above me,
And all my grave will warmer, sweeter be,
For you will bend and tell me that you love me,
And I shall sleep in peace until you come to me”
―
“Life's funny like that."
"A laugh a minute."
She put on Danny Boy so I could sing it again.
But if you fall as all flowers'er dying,
And you are, as dead you well may be,
I'll come and find the place where you are lying,
And kneel and say an ave there for thee.
but come ye back when summer's in―
The second time through made me terribly sad.
"send me letters from wherever it is you're going," she said, touching me.”
― Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World
"A laugh a minute."
She put on Danny Boy so I could sing it again.
But if you fall as all flowers'er dying,
And you are, as dead you well may be,
I'll come and find the place where you are lying,
And kneel and say an ave there for thee.
but come ye back when summer's in―
The second time through made me terribly sad.
"send me letters from wherever it is you're going," she said, touching me.”
― Hard-Boiled Wonderland and the End of the World
“From Glen to Glen
by Stewart Stafford
Solitary bike ride and you were dead,
The Ballymun Bard in Strawberry Bed,
Committed to your art, passion in voice,
The Grafton Troubadour made his choice.
Street, pub, arena with you as amplifier;
The listening public, your improv choir,
We had you but once, bittersweetly,
Life folding back upon itself neatly,
Gap in the soundboard of a holy guitar,
A tantalising future was a busk too far,
Visceral no more, see God in the clouds,
Your songs echo back from tribute crowds.
© 2026 Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”
―
by Stewart Stafford
Solitary bike ride and you were dead,
The Ballymun Bard in Strawberry Bed,
Committed to your art, passion in voice,
The Grafton Troubadour made his choice.
Street, pub, arena with you as amplifier;
The listening public, your improv choir,
We had you but once, bittersweetly,
Life folding back upon itself neatly,
Gap in the soundboard of a holy guitar,
A tantalising future was a busk too far,
Visceral no more, see God in the clouds,
Your songs echo back from tribute crowds.
© 2026 Stewart Stafford. All rights reserved.”
―
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