WHERE LEITRIM'S WATERS FLOW It is with deep affection these lines I try to pen In memory of my childhood days, when I was scarcely ten. I always loved to ramble, to pluck the berry and the sloe Along the daisy sloped canal where Leitrim's waters flow. Above its rippling waters there stands Riversdale, Its mansion house in ruins and its woods and flowery vale. Its landscapes clear each day appear when summer sunbeams glow And the large beech trees wave in the breeze where Leitrim's waters flow. Here stands the bridge of Aughoo, a grim and stately pile, Where lovers meet and poets think and travellers rest a while; Where honey tips the woodbine as the sun is sinking low And twilight's shadows veil the arch where Leitrim's waters flow. Upon each Sunday evening in the merry month of June When all the feathered minstrels are warbling forth their tune Upon its towering battlements the boys sit in a row While 'neath their feet like amber threads the Leitrim waters flow. The anglers too with line and hook along these waters roam, Companions of my childhood days now far away from home. Though far beyond the Atlantic foam their thoughts fly back I know To the lovely scenes around Loch Four where Leitrim's waters flow. Those days alas are vanished, youthful pleasures too are gone. The cursed emigration scheme is draining one by one My Comrades all, both strong and tall to foreign lands must go, >From Aughoo Bridge and Riversdale where Leitrim's waters flow. -- Phil McGoohan