I have always liked T. A. Daly's poetry, and often wonder whether he would pass muster with today's grim-faced, politically correct crowd. My guess is that he would not. You see, most of his best known poems were written in Irish and Italian dialect, and poke gentle fun at the immigrants from those two countries who poured into America early in the 20th century.

It wasn't mean stuff, and no one thought it was. In fact, Daly's poetry was highly popular in its time, especially among the Irish and Italian immigrants who were quick to recognize and enjoy the delightful, often zany characters that Daly created out of their world. Among others, there was Giuseppe the barber, who pines after Carlotta. But she ignores him even though "he gotta da cash, he gotta da clo'es and da bigga mustache . . ." And, of course, there's Tim O'Toole, who "I grant ye now, there is a lad That's beset wid the curse o'pugnacity bad . . ."

Anyway, since I've never been much for political correctness, I thought I'd introduce Daly to these pages this week. And despite this buildup, the poem I have selected is not controversial. It has only a slight, sentimental Irish lilt to it, and it does not poke fun at any characteristics that would have been considered at the time to be unique to Irish immigrants. I'll get to one of those some day. Count on it. In fact, I've already made the selection. It is "Between Two Loves."

But that can wait. For this week, I chose "The Song of the Thrush." It contains a touch of patriotism in keeping with the times, and praises the glories of early May, which is particularly beautiful here in the Shenandoah Valley. I have always liked this poem and hope you do to.