The Lovely Hills of Doon
Oughterard Newsletter
Michael O'Connor
As the evening sun it sinks behind,
The lovely Hills Of Doon,
My thoughts go back for many years,
Which, alas, have gone too soon.
To the happy times when we were young,
With those gentle neighbours dear
As we climbed up Barr a’Bothar Hill
To Leitir Village near.
The pace was nice and slow that time
There was no rushing round,
As we stopped to chat along the road
To the bogs sure we were bound.
Surrounded by Gods Nature
On either side we’d see
The heather and the streamlets too;
The sight was heavenly
Right through our days of working there
In that paradise so grand,
We’d listen to the skylarks song
Enveloping the land.
We knew the place was special
Its God’s Own Country
Which has given us fond memories
To reach eternity.
The woodcock and the pheasant too,
Were there in numbers great,
As were the partridge, grouse and snipe,
Across this vast estate;
And sportsmen congregated there,
Throughout the winter long,
It was a dreamland in those days,
Now alas, those birds are gone.
And pondering on those happy thoughts,
Which gives us peace of mine,
We face the future bravely.
For to us fate has been kind.
For giving us fond memories
Of a time that passed too soon
As we trotted barefooted round the roads
Near the lovely Hill’s Of Doon
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