c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-13–>c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-12–>c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-11–>c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-10–>c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-9–>c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-8–>c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-7–>c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-6–>c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-5–>c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-4–>c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-3–>c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-2–>c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-1–>c505218304b50c59c3659f6dda43bae7-links-0–>p class=”MsoNormal”>‘Dear Charles, you have won my heart
My first love and my vow’ :
He pressed her closely to his breast
And kissed her lovely brow:
And sitting thus, their hearts as one
She looked across the main
‘‘Yes Charles, ere tomorrow eye
We’ll bid farewell to Spain‘.
‘The sun peeps forth his jewelled head
The mist has cleared away
A Spanish ship at anchor rides
She heads for Carlingford Bay
The crew’s on deck, the sails are taut
They cry out, ‘Land ahead!’
All hands on deck, for soon we cross
The world-famed oyster bed.
There’s two on deck before the rest
They look towards the land
Their eyes rest on the city old
That’s built upon the strand.
It’s Charles and his Spanish love
His sweet and charming bride
Spell-bound they stand, and watch the shore
The rocks and foamy tide.
‘Here, love’s the land I promised thee
The mountains green and brown
You see the streams like silver thread
Above the white-washed town.
Old Carlingford – the home of Kings –
You see her Abbey high
John’s mighty castle on the rock
That storms and waves defy.
‘And yonder, look toward the right
Rostrevor sleeps alone
And there upon the hill above
The famous Cloughmore Stone.
A giant threw it from this side
Look up! His face you’ll see
His head is on the mountain top
His feet are in the sea.
‘Oh Charles, is this not a dream?
Is this the promised land?
The golden hills, the silver streams
So beautiful, so grand?
He smiled and whispered soft and low
‘There’s beauty still in store
Those hills, those streams, all, all will fade
Whene’er you see Glenmore.
You’ll see our castle’s towering walls
Entwined in ivy green
The waterfalls, the Anna Bog
The vale of Aghameen.
Around our home the wild flowers grow
The rose and hawthorn bush
At night you’ll hear the curlew’s song
At morn the garden thrush.’
Poor youth, he little knew that soon
An orphan’s home he’d find
And news he’d hear of home and friends
Enough to turn his mind.
His lands all confiscated! Gone!
His home, neglected! Lost!
Ah! Had he known his fate before
The seas he’d ne’er had crossed.