|
The morning sun was beaming with splendour from its station
When for some recreation down by a crystal stream
I carelessly did wander to hear the feathered songsters
Their charming notes all chanting melodious on the plain
I gazed upon the finches, the blackbirds and the thrushes
That crowded on the bushes, most charming to be seen
The flowers so young and tender, the daisies tall and slender
That bloomed in golden splendour in Sweet Bilboa and Clonteen.
‘Tis there you’d see young women going thru the meadows singing
The hills and valleys ringing with a sweet and charming sound
Of shrill melodious echoes all chanting forth the praises
Of the lovely Isle of Erin where peace and wealth abound.
‘Tis there you’d see Pandora, June, Hebe and Flora
Morpheus and Aurora arrayed in golden sheen
Venus, the bright goddess, Diana, meek and modest
All sporting thru the valleys of Sweet Bilboa and Clonteen.
‘Twould raise your heart to gaze on that mansion that so lately
Did tower so grand and stately over Bilboa’s ancient court
Where hounds and steeds were prancing, lords and ladies dancing
And Sol in splendour glancing shone o’er that glorious scene
Where lords and ladies sported, lads and lassies courted
And Cupid there resorted in Sweet Bilboa and Clonteen.
Were I like Socrates I would set forth the praises
Of that rural station in letters of bright gold,
There every night and morning the moon and sun adorning,
The hills and valleys charming are beauteous to behold,
Where down along the valley you’d see the oak and holly,
The hazel, birch and sally do flourish there serene.
I’ve travelled every nation thru every rank and station
But can find no place to equal Sweet Bilboa and Clonteen.
|