“Oh, Erry dear, how oft I think. Of your green clad hill, and valleys fair In memory I see again, The pleasant scenes I knew down there. The shady grove, the hill and dell, The moor that stretched far to ‘the Bawn’, The lonely walks, the murmuring streams, Round Erry old, and Clashawaun. “I see again the old ‘ Shed Field’ The ‘Piper’s Stile’, the ‘Moineen’, too; The ‘Hollows’ where the camans clashed, While many a one stood by to view; And the dancers, light and quick of foot, - No neater ever tripped the lawn - Their equals only can be met In Erry old, and Clashawaun. “I hear ‘the Standards’, hurls resound, The ‘New Road’ to the front once more! They’ve laurels gained on many a ground, Both now, and in the days of yore; And every Gael is staunch and brave, No cowards they, to crouch or fawn, They’ll plant their flag some day, to wave, O’or Erry old, and Clashawaun. “I listen to ‘the Brook’s’ low roar, The plover’s squeals so sharp and shrill. I watch the grouse and wild duck o’or The brow of ‘Toney’s famed old hill’- The curlew and the snipe and teal, - How oft I heard them at the dawn. As the factory horn’s notes would peal O’or Erry old, and Clashawaun. “What fun was ours at dance or spree, Or at the bonfire near ‘ the pool’ What tales were told ‘neath ‘Toney’s Tree’ What yarns in the corner stool! How happy I, when by my side I had my blushing ‘colleen bawn’ The fairest maid of all was she In Erry old, and Clashawaun. “Ah mo! I am far from Erry, now, Where life for me held many charms, No more I’ll see its grand old hills, Its cosy cots, and well kept farms,- May ev’ry blessing e’er abide At dark; and noon and early down On, all the dear friends who reside; In Erry old, and Clashawaun. “Joe Q.C.”