John McCullagh August 11, 2005
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I sat aloft on Slieve Mor hill

Watched in silence the valley round

Slieve Gullion rising to the sky

The Cowans sweeping to the ground.

 


To the north stood Topny Hill

A pyramid serene

All of nature’s lovely charm

Lay scattered o’er the scene

A patchwork quilt of fertile fields

And houses pearly white.

I thank the Lord for this jewel so rare

And the wonderful gift of sight.

 

I ups and through the heather strayed

With my sheepdog at my heel

I know not words ever phrased

To explain how I did feel.

 

This jewel rare God gave to me

I’ll keep it while I can

This little place where I was reared

In the vale of Mullaghbawn.

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