The Emigrant's Adieu to Ballyshannon

Adieu to Ballyshannon! where I was bred and born;
Go where I may, I'll think of you, as sure as
night and morn;
The kindly spot, the friendly town, where every one
is known,
And not a face in all the place but partly seems my
own.
There's not a house or window, there's not a field
or hill,
But, east or west, in foreign lands, I'll recollect them
still.
I leave my warm heart with you, though my back
I'm forced to turn, —
So adieu to Ballyshannon, and the winding banks of
Erne!

No more on pleasant evenings we'll saunter down the
Mall,
Where the trout is rising to the fly, the salmon to
the fall.
The boat comes straining on her net, and heavily she
creeps.
Cast off, cast off! — she feels the oars, and to her
berth she sweeps;
Now stem and stern keep hauling, and gathering up
the clew.
Till a silver wave of salmon rolls in among the crew.
Then they may sit, and have their joke, and set their
pipes to bum ; —
Adieu to Ballyshannon, and the winding banks of Erne!

The music of the waterfall, the mirror of the tide,
When all the green-hilled harbor is full from side to
side —
From Portnasun to Bulliebawns, and round the Abbey
Bay,
From the little rocky island to Coolnargit sand-hills
While far upon the southern line, to guard it like a
wall.
The Leitrim mountains, clothed in blue, gaze calmly
over all,
And watch the ship sail up or down, the red flag at
her stern;—
Adieu to these, adieu to all the winding banks of
Erne!

Farewell to you, Kildony lads, and them that pull an
oar,
A lug-sail set, or haul a net, from the Point to Mullaghmore;
From Killybegs to Carrigan, with its ocean-mountain
steep,
Six hundred yards in air aloft, six hundred in the
deep;
From Dooran to the Fairy Bridge, and round by
Tullen strand,
Level and long, and white with waves, where gull
and curlew stand;—
Head out to sea when on your lee the breakers you
discern;—
Adieu to all the billowy coast, and winding banks of
Erne!

Farewell Coolmore, — Bundoran! and your summer
crowds that run
From inland homes, to see with joy the Atlantic-setting
san;
To breathe the buoyant salted air, and sport among
the waves;
To gather shells on sandy beach, and tempt the gloomy
caves;
To watch the flowing, ebbing tide, the boats, the crabs,
the fish;
Young men and maids to meet and smile, and form a
tender wish;
The sick and old in search of health, for all things
have their turn—
And I must quit my native shore, and the winding
banks of Erne!