morning, noon
Well , in a short time I was down ; and my goodness ! such a hullabaloo of crying as there was in a minute 's time ! ` Oh , Shane Fadh -- Shane Fadh , acushla machree ! ' says my poor mother in Irish , ` you 're going to break up the ring about your father 's hearth and mine -- going to lave us , avourneen , for ever , and we to hear your light foot and sweet voice , morning , noon , and night , no more ! Oh ! ' says she , ` it 's you that was the good son all out ; and the good brother , too : kind and cheerful was your voice , and full of love and affection was your heart ! Shane , avourneen dheelish , if ever I was harsh to you , forgive your poor mother , that will never see you more on her flure as one of her own family . '