Bawnboy and Templeport
|
|||||||
| |
|||||||
The Road to Blacklion |
|
||||||
Home
The road to Blacklion is bright with the Spring
The hawthorn is flowering the day
The bluebells are tossing a song in the breeze
To gladden the hours of your way;
To Brackley, Drumbeagh, Legnaderk, Cornagee
Through scenes like a memory of old
Where the whin and the heather are crowning the hills
In a glory of purple and gold.
'Tis well I remember the master at school
With a word or a wave of his hand
Brought us down by the banks of the Ganges or Nile
Or away to some far prairie land;
And our fancies took flight in the wish of the mind
Winging free o'er the Kingdom of Glan,
And our hearts were away on the road of our dreams
To the sound of Ben Baxter's post van.
Ah! Go there at dawn when the light's in the hills
And the hopes of a new day are young,
When the sun threads the land in the silver of rills
And the birds fill the sky with their song;
Sure it seems as if heaven were resting a while
Down each blossom-filled boreen and lane;
And the angels were folding the morning clouds back,
For a glimpse at the face of Macnean.
Poem by the late John James Maguire (Adapted)