the winding river roe
| Some poets sing of a noble king |
| Or of a sweetheart fair, |
| Some tell of a tale of ships that sail, |
| with treasures rich and rare, |
| But my humble pen still drifts again, |
| To scenes of long ago, |
| Across the sea to the Benedy |
| And the winding River Roe. |
| Right well do I remember now, |
| Those happy childhood days, |
| And the times I had when just a lad |
| On Carn's lovely braes, |
| And when my mind is thus inclined |
| No other joys I know, |
| For my heart remains on the verdant plains |
| Near the winding River Roe. |
| Benbradagh's crown o'er Dungiven town |
| Is still within my view, |
| The Benedy Glen I worshipped then |
| Still lives in memory too, |
| The beautiful scene of Cashel green |
| Still haunts where e'er I go |
| And in all my dreams I see it seems |
| The Winding River Roe. |
| Twas my delight on a summer night |
| near Corick bridge to stand, |
| And to watch the trout as they leaped about |
| In their watery fairy land, |
| White the moon above bestowed its love |
| On the peaceful glen below, |
| And an angel's song was born along |
| By the winding River Roe. |
| If fortune smiles on me a while |
| I'll cross the sea again, |
| And all those yeats of toil and tears |
| Will be forgotten then, |
| And when at last my life has passed |
| Contentedly I'll go, |
| With my last request, then just to rest |
| Near the winding River Roe. |
