She was a fine maiden of thirty years
At the table playing cards
He, the dark stranger who had come
A gentleman of kind regards.
He had lost his way in the Hook Head fog
As did many a traveller before
Some say on horseback, more by sea
The truth in the fog of time is known no more.
As the time wore on her heart was lost
It is said, as the whist games were won,
A card dropped by her showed his cloven feet:
He was no mortals son!
A scream she let, in a puff of smoke he went
It was the devil himself who stole
The heart of Amy Loftus
As he played for her very soul!
She lost her mind, poor Amy
To the Tapestry Room was confined
Until she died she madly cried
In language broad and unrefined.
By some its said she can be seen
In a stiff dress to a closet in the corner to walk
More say the devil comes to attack those in the bed
Such is the local tales and talk.
More say a skeleton once upon a time
Behind the closet it was found
Was it her – or was it him
That was not buried in sacred ground?
She loved well, as well did he,
Her family disapproved
Was he murdered and hidden in the Tapestry room?
The truth will never be known or proved…
We know poor Amy lost her mind
Broken hearted, maybe with fear
His ghost malevolent, her’s is not
Should either of them appear.
Some slept while the room had a bed
Tales of each apparition was seen
Fr Thomas Broaders exorcised the house
Bar to the Tapestry Room where she confined had been.
It had been changed to a billiard room
How had her spirit taken it, it was inquired
She made an awful racket with the billiard balls
The changes her rage had fired!
Today, Loftus Hall is torn down
Another house stands in its stead
The locals tell tales to strangers now
Of the lovers, the devil and the dead!