Digital Tradition Mirror

Groves of Kilteevan

Groves of Kilteevan
 (M. Hickey)

 'Tis hard to bid farewell to the land of my father
 Endeared to my spirit by many a tie,
 And the feelings of friendship which memory gathers
 And sorrows, mementoes of days long gone by,
 Where we carelessly rambled along by the wild woods
 Bright as the songbirds that carol that (even/evening?),
 But now I must leave the dear scenes of my childhood,
 Forever farewell to the groves of Kilteevan.

 Though far far away o'er the Western Ocean,
 Where broad rivers roll down their tides to the main,
 I still think of thee, with a patriot's devotion,
 In dreams I behold you, Kilteevan, again.
 Oh, the song it will rise in the glory of morn
 And set in the dark fading splendor of evening,
 But I'll never more see its bright beams (adortan??)
 The scenes of my childhood, the groves of Kilteevan.

 Though far far away in Kilteevan I cherish
 One thought in my mind that I will not erase,
 The years rolling onward my fond heart will nourish
 And that is the thought of my own native place.
 For I'm crossing the seas and I ne'er shall return,
 Dense thoughts cloud my mind like the dark groves at evening,
 But still in whatever strange lands I'll sojourn
 My heart will go back to the groves of Kilteevan.

my transcription of this song from the South Roscommon singers


Thanks to Mudcat for the Digital Tradition!

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