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Blaeberry Sunday
Composed by Mr. Pat King
I
Morning bright children we hurray from Sunday Mass
Our Hearts are as light as Southwest winds
That over Slieve Croob pass
Joy has gone before us and we hurray in her wake
For we are bound for the mountain-top and we know the path to take.
II
We follow the stream that rises in the hills
And dances its way to the sea
We flee past old Shankill graveyard
Afraid, my little sister and me
For the fairies dwell there
And their torn tunics wave from the blackthorn bush
And their sweet, sad songs are ringing in our ears
As onwards and upwards we rush
III
Higher still we climb, beyond where the falcons nest
And here we drink of the sparkling waters
And here we take our rest
But the music and song comes drifting to us
From where the people throng and onwards we go
Anxious to be part of the music
Happy to be part of the song
IV
Soon we are part of the happy throng
And the web that is woven of laugher and song
And we frolic here between earth and blue sky
Just beyond where the twelve warriors lie
How long have you slept?
Were you true to the last?
No answer returns from the distant past.
V
The winds have dropped and the sun falls away
Peace comes stealing up from the sea
We whisper goodbye to our friends of the day
And homewards we go as the light fades away.
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