Library of Congress
I have an old fiddle,
the tune still very sweet to me,
belonged to my great grandfather,
from Ireland across the sea.
He came to this country,
to escape sorrow and much more,
loved his family dearly,
sung often of his family lore.
His old calloused hands,
played the fiddle to many a lad,
his memories kept alive,
the tales were often sad.
I listen to the old tunes,
in my memories they now roam,
for I have his old fiddle,
grandfather brought here from home.
James W. Spain
