The Banks of my own Lovely Lee

How oft do my thoughts in their fancy take flight

To the home of my childhood away,

To the days when each patriot's vision seem'd bright

Ere I dreamed that those joys should decay.

When my heart was as light as the wild winds that blow

Down the Mardyke through each elm tree,

Where I sported and play'd 'neath each green leafy shade

On the banks of my own lovely Lee.

And then in the springtime oflaughterr and song

Can I ever forget the sweet hours?

With the friends of my youth as we rambled along

'Mongst the green mossy banks and wild flowers.

Then too, when the evening sun's sinking to rest

Sheds its golden light over the sea

The maid with her lover the wild daisies pressed

On the banks of my own lovely Lee

The maid with her lover the wild daisies pressed

On the banks of my own lovely Lee

'Tis a beautiful land this dear isle of song

Its gems shed their light to the world

And her faithful sons bore thro' ages of wrong,

The standard St. Patrick unfurled.

Oh! would I were there with the friends I love best

And my fond bosom's partner with me

We'd roam thy banks over, and when weary we'd rest

By thy waters, my own lovely Lee,

We'd roam thy banks over, and when weary we'd rest

By thy waters, my own lovely Lee,

Oh what joys should be mine ere this life should decline

To seek shells on thy sea- girdled shore.

While the steel-feathered eagle, oft splashing the brine

Brings longing for freedom once more.

Oh all that on earth I wish for or crave

Is that my last crimson drop be for thee,

To moisten the grass of my forefathers' grave

On the banks of my own lovely Lee

To moisten the grass of my forefathers' grave

On the banks of my own lovely Lee.