THE BANKS OF THE FINN
(A love story told by Patrick Bonar)

The recent discovery of letters and poems, the property of the late Mary Ann Bonar who resided in the town land of Drim in Glenfin are considered a major find. Among the many scripts was found a poem of superb quality entitled ‘THE BANKS OF THE FINN’. As a result of this magnificent find the name of Mary Ann Bonar will be associated with Lough Finn, which is the birth place of the Finn river, for eternity.

Her grand nephew Mr Michael Bonar who hails from the Stranorlar area has recently discovered this poem, which remained lost for almost two generations.  Michael is an avid collector of antiquities, and on finding this poem, he immediately recognised its literary value and place in history.

Background history.

This story is set at Lough Finn, at the foot of the Blue Stack Mountains, in the early part of the twentieth century. This was a difficult time in our history, when many young men and women emigrated to foreign lands in the hope of having a better and richer life. Leaving Ireland was not an option for everyone as many people had to remain here and help out at home.

The following letter was sent to Mary Ann in April 1913 from a Mr. Patrick Doherty, Philadelphia, USA when she was around twenty years old. It is clear from the correspondence that Patrick and Mary Ann had a close relationship before he went abroad, and one can gather from his letter that he is attempting to woo her to America for a more lasting relationship.

The poem, which is written in Mary Ann’s handwriting, was in an envelope folded with Patrick’s letter. I believe that the poem was written around the twenties or thirties. Not alone is this beautifully written poem of great interest locally, because of its connection with Lough Finn, it is also a tale of two young lovers who were kept apart by the wide Atlantic ocean and this would have been true of many relationships during those difficult times.
Fate is inescapable and when Mary Ann was offered to join her beloved Patrick Doherty in Philadelphia back in 1913 she had to balance the desire to be with her true love or stay and help her people at home. This poem will thrill countless readers and the burning question is, should she have stayed in the Blue Stack mountains or have gone to America?
Of Patrick’s fate I cannot say but Mary Ann never married and she is dead now for many years.
Perhaps their spirits are now together roaming in the Blue Stack Mountains and along the shores of The Banks Of Lough Finn.

7/8 Folsom St.
Philadelphia,
U.S.A.
7/4/1913   

Dear Fond Mary,
In reply to your kind letter which I received the other day, I was very glad to hear from you, and all here being well as the departure of this line at present, I thank God for his fondness to us all.
Dear Mary, I wonder how it was that you didn’t have more news to send me but I was glad to hear from you at that.
Mary darling, how is it you don’t think of coming out to this great country of ours? It is a great place, lots of fun here every day and night. If it wasn’t for the death of my poor father, I would take Catherine out here but I don’t want to take her from poor mother so soon.
Mary dear, now this is private between you and I, if you make up your mind to come out here anytime, just let me know and I will pay all expenses for you, and see you after you land here. How I hope you won’t be offended at my offer to you, as I wouldn’t like to hurt your feelings by no means. I don’t mean anything bad by saying such things.
Dear Mary, I haven’t any news to send you of any importance, so I will be glad to hear from you soon again, and let me know what you intend to do for the near future. Also, I would be delighted to have your photo, just to set it in my room.
Now Mary dear, no more at present. Hoping you will write me soon.
I remain your friend forever.
Patrick Doherty.

To M Bonar xxx
Xxxxxx
My sister wishes to be remembered to you.
P.D.

‘Remember me when this you see
Though many miles we are apart
And often times I cast my thought
On your absent true heart’

May this letter bring you happy thoughts?
P.D.




Many years passed since Mary Ann received correspondence from Patrick and later when she lived alone in the Blue Stack Mountains she would find some relief and comfort by transferring her thoughts from mind to paper. In a true romantic fashion she did this through poetry. I believe that her relative Bridget Mc Ginley may have written this poem with some input from Mary Ann.




The Banks Of The Finn

There is a bright little lake mid the Donegal highlands
And long shall its memory remain in my mind.
Unsurpassed by Lough Lean with its holly-crowned mountains
Embroidered with heath in wild beauty enshrined.

Apart from the regions where discord is raging
Unknown on its borders deception or sin.
But love and religion its pure soul engaging
Makes an Eden of bliss on the banks of the Finn

How oft on its fair verdant banks have I wandered
When my heart was as light as the zephyrs that played.
But a wild wayward fate has unfeeling sund-ered
My soul from the scenes where it fain would have stayed.

Yet it is not the parting from lake stream or ocean
That tortures the heart or my bosom within.
It’s the absence of him whom I loved with devotion
The noblest, the best on the banks of the Finn.

His brow was as fair as the Sircie's purest marble
His bright eyes still flashed with the lightening of love
His voice woo more sweet than the nighting-gales warble
And gentle is heart as the heart of a dove.

When the ray of the young moon came mistily stealing
And silvered the dewdrops that hung from the whin
The tale of his love he was surely revealing
As we wandered alone by the banks of the Finn.

Oh fond was his kiss on that eve when we parted
And said our farewell on Lough Finn’s moonlight shore
As I watched him departing so gay and light hearted
Ah: little I thought I would see him no more

All sadly I roam in the land of the stranger
Afar from Lough Finn and its sweet peaceful vale
There’s none to protect me from insult and anger
And there is no one to cheer me when troubles assail

But I’ll patiently wait till my exile is over
When death shall release me from sorrow and sin
And my spirit shall soar over the home of my lover
And beyond the blue skies will remember Lough Finn.