1972 For countless ages down the glen, the little stream has flown, Along its steeps, the golden gorse, the fern and rowan grown. Small beast found shelter in its depths, the birds sang here all day, While generations came and went and empires passed away. A cleft between two limestone hills, preserved from man's intrusion, Far from the bullets and the bombs, the anguish and confusion. A place to sit and ponder on the lessons of the past, While politicians rant and rave, from Derry to Belfast. Injustice breeds rebellion, rebellion breeds excess. Violence countering violence brings horror and distress; The widow's tear, the child's lament, the strong man's cry of pain, The burning home, the haggard face that never smiled again. As resurrection follows death, so hope succeeds dismay, And peace will come to this fair land when people kneel to pray. And love will bloom as hatred dies within the souls of men, But I am listening here, alone, to the message of the glen. -- The late Matt Duggan was born in Maguiresbridge, Co. Fermanagh in 1914. His family emigrated to Scotland when he was six, but at the age of nine he was adopted by an uncle in Derrylin, Co. Fermanagh and finished his schooling there. Mr. Duggan was a POW in WWII for four years and a postman in Derrylin for 25 years. Some of his poems appear in "From Mountain to Lough."