Though the Lakes of Killarney are dear to my heart. From my native Kilshannig I ne'er shall depart. I would rather live lonely mid the landscapes serene, On the lowlands of Brittas or the highlands of Beeing. There is Hillary's castle, the pride of the west, And the famed hill of Bailic with its heath-covered crest Where I wandered in childhood with a heart full of glee, Going out to the moorlands of Glounaharee. Gurranes and Gneeves are the next I must trace, Where the fox is oft seen with the hounds in full chase. If you want a day's coursing, here's a fine hunting ground Mid the ruins of past ages Jer. Ruadh's and the Pound. Though I owe my best wishes to sweet Glounminane, And my heart is with Laharn, Droumpeesh and Creggane, To Saint Abby's fountain my thoughts fondly stray; That sanctified spot where the pilgrims do pray. And some distance further my memory must glide To the land lying so fair by the Blackwater's side, Where you see the plantations of dear Mohereen, And the battered old castle of famed Dromineen.Helen O'Stephywalsh