Once upon a time, many years ago
In a faraway land that most of us know
Lived Maureen O’Neill, a poor country lass
Who had golden hair and a doll made of glass.
The doll was her friend she called Rosaleen
Whose name had come to her in a dream.
Her hair had no luster and one hand was shattered,
But Maureen loved her well and nothing else mattered.
Where is Rosaleen?
One day as they walked by a shimmering brook.
They chatted about how good they would look
If trees could grow money and rocks were all dimes
And they could buy anything that came to their minds.
They talked of new dresses all velvet and lace,
And bracelets of diamonds and rouge for the face,
And coaches with horses so mighty and swift
To take them to dances and balls if they wished.
Each day Maureen dreamed about money and riches
She disliked her torn and worn out britches.
She sulked and hid from her Mama and Dad.
Their poverty made her both angry and sad.
She wanted more toys and got fed up one day
And took Rosaleen and hid her away.
The doll lay in bushes all thorny and cold
Away from the sunshine and there she grew old.
Unhappy Maureen soon fled her poor home
She traveled to Dublin and there she did roam
Through streets all dirty and dingy and dark
With taverns and nightlife and there she did park.
Alone by the brook little Rosaleen waited
For Maureen to find her, but she was outdated.
The years that had passed were many and harsh
The doll lay forlorn, alone near a marsh.
One day when Maureen was feeling quite blue
A vision appeared asking, “How do you do?
You look so familiar, please tell me your name.
I’m sure that I know you – are you one of great fame?
Your face is so pretty, your hair is pure gold
I feel that I know you, or am I too bold?
You see, I’m a stranger who wandered away
From my home in the country where I used to stay.
I belonged to a girl who once held me dear
But she went away, and I do not know where.
’Twas her mother who found me and held me real tight
And brushed off my tears in the dark of the night.
That’s all I remember and that’s all I know.
I’m sorry to bother you, but now I must go.
Take care of yourself, you golden haired lass.
I’m Rosaleen, and I’m made of glass.”
