A PLENTEOUS place is Ireland for hospitable cheer, <br /> Uileacan dubh O! <br />Where the wholesome fruit is bursting from the yellow barley ear; <br /> Uileacan dubh O! <br />There is honey in the trees where her misty vales expand, <br />And her forest paths in summer are by falling waters fann’d, <br />There is dew at high noontide there, and springs i’ the yellow <br /> sand, <br /> On the fair hills of holy Ireland. <br /> <br />Curl’d he is and ringleted, and plaited to the knee— <br /> Uileacan dubh O! <br />Each captain who comes sailing across the Irish Sea; <br /> Uileacan dubh O! <br />And I will make my journey, if life and health but stand, <br />Unto that pleasant country, that fresh and fragrant strand, <br />And leave your boasted braveries, your wealth and high <br /> command, <br /> For the fair hills of holy Ireland. <br /> <br />Large and profitable are the stacks upon the ground, <br /> Uileacan dubh O! <br />The butter and the cream do wondrously abound; <br /> Uileacan dubh O! <br />The cresses on the water and the sorrels are at hand, <br />And the cuckoo’s calling daily his note of music bland, <br />And the bold thrush sings so bravely his song i’ the forests <br /> grand, <br /> On the fair hills of holy Ireland.<br /><br />Sir Samuel Ferguson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-fair-hills-of-ireland/
