| Some poets sing of a noble king
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| All of a sweetheart fair
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| Some tell a tale of ships that sail
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| With treasures rich and rare
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| But my humble pen still drifts again
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| To scenes of long ago
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| Across the sea to the Benedy
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| And the winding river Roe
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| Right well do I remember now
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| Those happy childhood days
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| And the times I had when just a lad
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| On Carn’s lovely braes
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| And when my mind is thus inclined
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| No other joys I know
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| For my heart remains on the verdant plains
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| Near the winding river Roe
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| Benbradagh’s crown o’er Dungiven town
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| Is still within my view
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| And the Benedy Glen I worshipped then
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| Still lives in memory too
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| The beautiful scene of Cashel Green
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| Still haunts where ere I go And in all my dreams I see it seems
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| The winding river Roe
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| If fortune smiles on me a while
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| I’ll cross the sea again
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| And all those years of toil and tears
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| Will be forgotten then
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| And when at last my life has passed
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| Contentedly I’ll go Across the sea to the Benedy
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| And the winding river Roe |