{"id":2379,"date":"2015-10-16T17:26:23","date_gmt":"2015-10-16T17:26:23","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.writingsinrhyme.com\/?p=2379"},"modified":"2015-10-16T17:26:23","modified_gmt":"2015-10-16T17:26:23","slug":"she-loved-not-him-who-her-father-chose","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/she-loved-not-him-who-her-father-chose\/","title":{"rendered":"She Loved Not Him Who Her Father Chose"},"content":{"rendered":"<blockquote><p>A poem I wrote some years back, on love, a disapproving family, and a tragedy of murder and suicide! which I now republish on the website&#8230;<\/p><\/blockquote>\n<p>She loved not him who her father chose<br \/>\nA man with castle and land<br \/>\nOh, no, it was but a humble serf<br \/>\nWho asked the daughters hand.<br \/>\nAnd to spite his pleas and all he said<br \/>\nAnd in fits of rage did fly<br \/>\nThe fact he was her father made<br \/>\nNo difference, she did defy.<\/p>\n<p>She a girl who ne\u2019re spoke once<br \/>\nA word against her fathers will<br \/>\nBut such is the power of romance<br \/>\nNow she cries with anger shrill<br \/>\nAs her love from the house is cast<br \/>\nNever to return shes sure<br \/>\nFor there are men who\u2019ve killed in the past<br \/>\nWaiting for him on the moor.<\/p>\n<p>And so she cries and upstairs runs<br \/>\nAs a broken woman she does feel<br \/>\nAnd her father smiles at his three strong sons<br \/>\nAnd sits down again to finish his meal.<br \/>\nAnd upstairs from a window on the roof<br \/>\nFrom the room to where the maiden fled<br \/>\nA figure frail emerged to display her loves proof<br \/>\nAnd she landed on the ground cold dead.<\/p>\n<p>And that night at heavens gate<br \/>\nThe lovers danced in glory<br \/>\nHer father was left desolate<br \/>\nAnd here ends our story.<br \/>\nA man may be poor and have a home small<br \/>\nAnd a girl father may not have been proud<br \/>\nTo have a daughter as commoner call<br \/>\nBut to see her each day he\u2019d have been allowed.<\/p>\n<p>He used murder to separate the lovers two<br \/>\nFor nothing surmounts death<br \/>\nBut the girl in the afterlife believed and knew<br \/>\nAnd their dancing in heaven yet. <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>A poem I wrote some years back, on love, a disapproving family, and a tragedy of murder and suicide! which I now republish on the website&#8230; She loved not him who her father chose A man with castle and land Oh, no, it was but a humble serf Who asked &#8230;<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_jetpack_memberships_contains_paid_content":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[155,2479,145],"tags":[2500,156,2498,78,2499,151,1595,2054,507],"class_list":["post-2379","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-death","category-ghost-story","category-love-poems","tag-daughter","tag-family","tag-forbidden-love","tag-ghost-story","tag-king","tag-lovers","tag-murder","tag-peasent","tag-suicide","column","twocol"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p7EI4f-Cn","jetpack_likes_enabled":true,"jetpack-related-posts":[{"id":520,"url":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/a-postcard-to-her-father-sent\/","url_meta":{"origin":2379,"position":0},"title":"A Postcard to Her Father Sent","author":"Tom\u00e1s \u00d3 C\u00e1rthaigh","date":"6th July 2012","format":false,"excerpt":"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=7xmMQcRJh-Q The Maria Lazum story, recounted to me by the poet Paul Polansky who knew the family. He was the author of Black Silence, the book on the survivors of the Lety camp. A postcard she sent from the train as she To Auschwitz and her death she was brought\u2026","rel":"","context":"In &quot;Civil Rights&quot;","block_context":{"text":"Civil Rights","link":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/category\/civil-rights\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/img.youtube.com\/vi\/7xmMQcRJh-Q\/0.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":4213,"url":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/lady-christmas-on-the-moor\/","url_meta":{"origin":2379,"position":1},"title":"Lady Christmas on the Moor","author":"Tom\u00e1s \u00d3 C\u00e1rthaigh","date":"21st December 2017","format":false,"excerpt":"You have heard of Father Christmas, even Mrs Christmas his alleged wife... but you will not have heard of Lady Christmas... for she his but a ghost as this seasonal gothic poem tells... They call her Lady Christmas, at Christmas she does appear For it is said its at this\u2026","rel":"","context":"In &quot;Death&quot;","block_context":{"text":"Death","link":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/category\/death\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"Fog on the Moor","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.writingsinrhyme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/Fog-on-the-Moor.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.writingsinrhyme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/Fog-on-the-Moor.jpg?resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.writingsinrhyme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/Fog-on-the-Moor.jpg?resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.writingsinrhyme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2017\/12\/Fog-on-the-Moor.jpg?resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]},{"id":2876,"url":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/ghost-at-the-gate-at-willie-cartys\/","url_meta":{"origin":2379,"position":2},"title":"Ghost at the Gate at Willie Carty&#8217;s","author":"Tom\u00e1s \u00d3 C\u00e1rthaigh","date":"23rd June 2016","format":false,"excerpt":"This is a story I heard as a child about a gate at Willie Cartys in Aughagreagh. My own father often could not open the gate, and indeed my sister could not either, though she never saw the spectre. The story behind it was recorded in the Irish Folklore Commission\u2026","rel":"","context":"In &quot;Family Stories&quot;","block_context":{"text":"Family Stories","link":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/category\/family-stories\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"Irish Folklore Commission file written by Pauric Mac Greine of a telling of our family story of the tall man at the gate of Willie Carty house that I was told of as a child...","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.writingsinrhyme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/06\/Ghost-at-the-Gate-of-Willie-Cartys-house-in-Auaghagreagh-252x300.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":4542,"url":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/jack-and-jill-a-horror-story\/","url_meta":{"origin":2379,"position":3},"title":"Jack and Jill &#8211; A Horror Story","author":"Tom\u00e1s \u00d3 C\u00e1rthaigh","date":"9th September 2019","format":false,"excerpt":"Jack and Jill went out to kill Vampires they saught to slaughter... But Jack stabbed Jill On top of the Hill... Said she was the Devil's Daughter... -------------- Written for the P&W Bloggers group on Facebook...","rel":"","context":"In &quot;Funny Poems&quot;","block_context":{"text":"Funny Poems","link":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/category\/funny-poems\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"Red Dawn - A crimson sky over Ballybrit heralds a rainy day according to folklore","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.writingsinrhyme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/09\/Red-Dawn-A-crimson-sky-over-Ballybrit-heralds-a-rainy-day-according-to-folklore.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.writingsinrhyme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/09\/Red-Dawn-A-crimson-sky-over-Ballybrit-heralds-a-rainy-day-according-to-folklore.jpg?resize=350%2C200 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.writingsinrhyme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/09\/Red-Dawn-A-crimson-sky-over-Ballybrit-heralds-a-rainy-day-according-to-folklore.jpg?resize=525%2C300 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/www.writingsinrhyme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2016\/09\/Red-Dawn-A-crimson-sky-over-Ballybrit-heralds-a-rainy-day-according-to-folklore.jpg?resize=700%2C400 2x"},"classes":[]},{"id":33,"url":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/sitting-there-saying-nothing\/","url_meta":{"origin":2379,"position":4},"title":"Sitting There Saying Nothing","author":"Tom\u00e1s \u00d3 C\u00e1rthaigh","date":"8th April 2013","format":false,"excerpt":"http:\/\/www.youtube.com\/watch?v=J3vA8ycdE3I She sits there saying nothing A wee woman and her wains We know not who she is That sits there with her bains As the Scots would say if seeing What my father claims to have seen That sitting on a wall In broad daylight had been... Going to\u2026","rel":"","context":"In &quot;Family Stories&quot;","block_context":{"text":"Family Stories","link":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/category\/family-stories\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/img.youtube.com\/vi\/J3vA8ycdE3I\/0.jpg?resize=350%2C200","width":350,"height":200},"classes":[]},{"id":5196,"url":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/the-big-100-my-father-never-got-to-see\/","url_meta":{"origin":2379,"position":5},"title":"The Big 100 My Father Never Got to See","author":"Tom\u00e1s \u00d3 C\u00e1rthaigh","date":"22nd February 2022","format":false,"excerpt":"Dad would have been one hundred today, if still alive. He would have enjoyed cashing the cheque from the President he often said. It wasn't to be. Today we Remember a North Longford man. He was defined by his building, most of what he made still stands, unlike what professional\u2026","rel":"","context":"In &quot;Blog&quot;","block_context":{"text":"Blog","link":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/category\/blog\/"},"img":{"alt_text":"","src":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/writingsinrhyme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/10\/Aughagreagh.jpg?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1","width":350,"height":200,"srcset":"https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/writingsinrhyme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/10\/Aughagreagh.jpg?resize=350%2C200&ssl=1 1x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/writingsinrhyme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/10\/Aughagreagh.jpg?resize=525%2C300&ssl=1 1.5x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/writingsinrhyme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/10\/Aughagreagh.jpg?resize=700%2C400&ssl=1 2x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/writingsinrhyme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/10\/Aughagreagh.jpg?resize=1050%2C600&ssl=1 3x, https:\/\/i0.wp.com\/writingsinrhyme.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2020\/10\/Aughagreagh.jpg?resize=1400%2C800&ssl=1 4x"},"classes":[]}],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2379","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=2379"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2379\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":2380,"href":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/2379\/revisions\/2380"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=2379"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=2379"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/writingsinrhyme.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=2379"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}