Green Glens Of Antrim!   

Far across yonder blue lies a true fairy land,

Where the sea ripples over the shingles and sand.

Where the gay honeysuckle is luring the bee,

And the green glens of Antrim are calling to me.

Sure if only you knew how the lamp of the moon

Turns a blue Irish bay to a silver lagoon.

You'd imagine a picture of heav'n it could be

And the green glens of Antrim are calling to me.

Soon I hope to return to my own Cushendall.

'Tis the one place for me that can outshine them all.

Sure I know every stone , I recall every tree,

And the green glens of Antrim are calling to me.

I would halt at a cabin, close down by the shore,

And I'll knock with my heart at that wee cabin door.

While the sun showers gold in the lap of the sea,

And the green glens of Antrim are calling to me.

'Tis alone my concern if the grandest surprise,

Would be shinning at me out of somebody's eyes.

'Tis my private affair what my feelings would be,

And the green glens of Antrim are calling to me.

But I'd be where the people are simple and kind,

And among them, the one who's been aye in my mind.

Sure I'd pray that the world would in peace let me be,

And the green glens of Antrim are calling to me.

Written by Kenneth North