|
Thro' Benedy Glen oft at eve I have
wandered, |
|
With a heart that is lighter than
the dew of the morn, |
|
Her heather clad mountains and clear
crystal fountains, |
|
Delightful to view by the light of
the dawn, |
|
I see her green hills and swift
running streamlets, |
|
Eternally flowing right on to the
sea, |
|
By her side I ly down on a bank of
blue violets |
|
And its murmuring and gurgling are
music to me. |
|
In far foreign lands oft do her sons
wander, |
|
By Niagra falls or the prairie
grand, |
|
Where nature is seen both majestic
and savage, |
|
But their hearts are at home in
their dear native land, |
|
They long to return to the banks of
the Leana |
|
The Roe and its branches on every
side, |
|
That flows thro' the land of the
once great O'Cathain |
|
That once 'gainst the Saxon defended
with pride. |
|
Her daughters are fair and her sons
they are gallant, |
|
They scorn the tyrant, the serf and
the slave, |
|
Their rights they maintain at the
point of a bayonet, |
|
With an arm that is strong and a
heart that is brave, |
|
In an abey not far from the town of
Dungiven |
|
Their spirit hovers over that once
much loved soil, |
|
Where there lies brave Cooley, that
once mighty chieftain |
|
Who commanded of yore from the Bann
to the Foyle. |
|
His statue disfigured by base alien
mongrels, |
|
His name oft impaired by unscrpulous
foes, |
|
Yet his soul shines in glory mid
choirs of angels, |
|
As his body lies mouldering on the
banks of the Roe, |
|
Long may she prosper neath her
sheltering mountains, |
|
Carntogher, Benbradagh, and
surrounding hills, |
|
From calamity and damine great
heaven defend them, |
|
And grant them contentment neath
their clear purling rills. |
