RIP Ashling Murphy – She Was Going For A Run

Candlelight vigils and musical tributes are being held all over Ireland and UK , this weekend, over the death of a 23 year old teacher, Ashling Murphy. What a waste of a beautiful life, taken too soon by an unknown man who attacked her when she was running along the canal during the day. She went for a run as part of her exercise regime at four o’clock after finishing teaching her first class students in the local national school. By 5 o’clock she was dead. A wonderful teacher, pleasant lady and Irish traditional musician, taken violently from her family. You were not the problem, male violence is.

Many women and men are angry and devastated at a senseless death. They are demanding this has to be a watershed moment. Things have to change. We need more gardai on the street, we need to educate young boys and better prosecutions on violence against women. Some read poetry, some said prayers, most wept and others sang and played musical instruments united in grief at the loss of one of Ireland’s high achiever’s and educators. Her community, her family and friends were overcome with grief. In a sad day it showed the best and worst of Ireland. A terrible wrong, a life taken but it also showed all the good people in Ireland who lit a candle and walked the streets of Ireland and the Irish abroad who walked a vigil in her honour shouting no more deaths or violence against women, enough is enough.

Destiny By Lady Jane Wilde

There was a star that lit my life
It hath set to rise no more,
For Heaven, in mercy, withdrew the light
I fain would have knelt before.

There was a flower I pluck’d in my dreams,
Fragrant and fair to see;
Oh, would I had never awoke and found
Such bloom not here for me.

There was a harp, whose magic tone,
Echoed my faintest words
But Destiny’s hand, with a ruthless touch,
Hath rent the golden chords.
There was a path like Eden’s vale,
In which I was spell’d to stray,
But Destiny rose with a flaming sword
To guard that path alway.
I’ve looked on eyes were like the star
Their light is quench’d for me;
And a soul I have known like the golden harp
That breath’d but melody.

And moments bright as that dream‐land
Where bloomed the radiant flower.
Oh! would I had died ere I felt the gloom
Of this dark, joyless hour.

Fatal the time I rais’d mine eyes
To eyes whose light hath blasted
Yet ere I could turn from their glance away,
Life had with gazing wasted.

Bitter the thought that years may pass
Yet thus it must be ever,
To look on thy form, to hear thy voice
But nearer—never, never.

Could I but love as I love the stars,
Or the gush of the twilight breeze,
Or the pale light of the wandering moon
Glancing through forest trees;

With a sinless, calm, untroubled love,
Look upwards and adore
Could I but thus gaze life away,
Without the wish to soar.

In vain! in vain! I hope, I weep,
I kneel the long nights in prayer
Oh! better to die in the noon of life,
Than love, and yet despair.

People Sang Only A Woman’s Heart At Vigils.

One of the musical tributes to her.

About Author Annette J Dunlea Irish Writer

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