Ulster Memories

I’M 20 miles from Lurgan in the city of Belfast; Tis seldom that in such a place my humble lot is cast.

But then, tonight is special, for I make my air debut, and try to win favour with a homely rhyme or two.

i’ve wandered north and south, and east and west, on Ulster’s soil, through isolated villages, like that of Caramoyle;

I’ve toured the Antrim coast road, and the shore of County Down, But Always I’ll be longing to get back to Lurgan town.

I cherish happy memories of days long passed and gone, when life was to my untarnished soul was grand to look upon;

The struggle on an upward path, the faded hopes, the tears, were hidden then, to ripen with the passing of the years.

I’ve seen the civic splendours of the city of Belfast; I’ve gazed on kings and princes as their cavalcades have passed;

And I have had the pleasure, too, one crisp November morn, Of having conversation with the Duke of Abercorn.

Yes, I’ve been honoured many times; nobilities I’ve met; Yet, with the passing of the years, I don’t think I’ll forget

The Thrills those moments gave to me; the inspiration grand that filled my very being when they grasped me by the hand.

I’m glad Armagh County is the county of my birth, because - because to me it is the fairest place on earth;

I’ve roamed its every corner, hill and valley, in my day, from beautiful slieve Gullion to the shores of wide Lough Neagh.

And as I roamed the countryside, a thousand friends I made; I’ve sat at farmers’ tables; with their children I have played;

I’ve jogged behind the horses as they laboured at the plough, and I have often helped a farmer buy and sell a cow.

I’ve memories of Dollingstown and also Maralin, where nights of grand diversion helped to put the winters in;

And oft through Donacloney’s model village I have gone; in Waringstown I’ve seen the blaze of flowers around the lawn.

And then I came and settled where the waters of Lough Neagh, by Annaloiste and Kinnego, on silver sand-banks play;

Where fact’ry chimneys pierce the sky; where greyhounds are the rage, I’ve carried on and played my part, with Lurgan as my stage.

I’ve often lazed in Lurgan Park at quiet eventide, and watched the snow-white swans across the placid water glide;

I’ve strolled around its pretty walks a countless score of times; I’ve seen the dancing in the pathway of the limes.

These memories I cherish of the days now dead and gone, a garden filled with happiness I oft look back upon;

That you may be as happy is the greeting now I send to each of you in Ulster, ere my rhyme has reached its end.