Morne O,Donahue
The blue hills of Antrim I see in my dreams,
The high hills of Antrim, the glens and the streams;
In sunlight and shadow, in weal and in woe,
The sweet vision haunts me wherever I go.

Sleeve Trostan's in shadow, and Glenan in tears
Looks sorrowing up at her Love thro' the years:
That sad look at Trostan I cannot forget;
My heart pines in darkness, my lashes are wet.

Red dawn is at breaking, and Sleeve-meesh is glad
In smiles to the green fields and fallows of Braud;
Craigbilly is waking from night's dewy sleep,
And Kella's young streams with my new pulses leap.