The Benedy Glen

Thro' Benedy Glen oft at eve have I wandered,

With a heart that is lighter than the dew of the morn,

Her heather clad mountains and clear crystal fountains

Delightful to view by the light of the dawn,

I see her green hills and swift running streamlets,

Eternally flowing right on to the sea,

By her side I lie down on a bank of blue violets,

And its murmuring and gurgling are music to me.

In far foreign lands oft do her sons wander,

By Niagara Falls or the Prairie grand,

Where nature is seen both majestic and savage,

But their hearts are at home in their dear native land,

They long to return to the banks of the Leana,

The Roe and its branches on every side,

That flows thro' the land of that once great O' Cathain,

That once 'gainst the Saxon defended with pride.

Her daughters are fair and her sons they are gallant,

They scorn the tyrant, the seorf or the slave,

Their rights they maintain at the point of the bayonet,

With an arm that is strong and a heart that is brave.

In an abbey not far from the town of Dungiven,

Their spirit hovers over that once much loved soil,

Where there lies brave Cooey, that once mighty chieftain,

Who commanded of yore from the Bann to the Foyle.

His statue disfigured by base alien mongrels,

His name oft impaired by the unscrupulous foes,

Yet his soul shines in glory mid choirs and angels,

As his body lies mouldern' on the banks of the Roe,

Long may she prosper 'neath her sheltering mountains,

Carntogher, Benbradagh and surrounding hills,

From calamity and famine great heaven defend them,

And grant them contentment 'neath their clear purling rills.