A DUNMINNING RAMBLE

I went for a ramble one fine summer day
And down by Dunminning I chanced for to stray
A place of importance or so I’ve been told
Where the scenery is lovely and fair to behold
I wandered along with a leisurely stride
Till I saw a mill pond just by the roadside
A harbour for wild fowl this pond has become
The swans, coots and wild ducks have made it their home.

A little bit further I came to a hill
Where stands a building they call Duneoin Mill
A massive creation of stone work the best
A pity this building is going to waste
Now going down towards the end of the road
I saw through the bushes a sequestered abode
A splendid old structure of Gregorian design
A fine habitation I wish it were mine.

As I sauntered on towards Dunminning Cross
I spied a fine building up towards the moss
A house like a palace of red brickwork supreme
“Gledheather” they call it an appropriate name
I arrived at the cross and turned to the right
A quaint little cottage appeared in my sight
A dwelling uncommon artistically braw
It was minus both gables and thatched with flax straw.

And now to the bridge that extends over the Maine
A sweet little river with a high sounding name
There are plenty of fish in that burbling stream
Those speckled beauties, a fisherman’s dream
So on up the river, the old weir for to view
It’s hidden approaches are known but to few
As the place came in sight I instantly thought
Of beauty unrivalled, a wonderful spot.

Now retracing my way I down the road came
At the nursery steps I halted again
My inquisitive mind would disturb me until
I could see what the scenery was like o’er the hill
I climbed over the ridge and I gazed with delight
At that beautiful vision that burst on my sight
Of the green glens of Antrim I’ve heard people talk
That glen in Dunminning surpasses the lot.

The wild flowers blooming on those pleasant slopes
The little birds twittering among the tree tops
The soothing refrain of that murmuring stream
And the tall towering trees with their mantle of green
All these made a picture to gladden the eye
To enthuse o’er its charms I’d better not try
My pen can’t describe the charm of that dell
So I very reluctantly bode it farewell.

The old winding road I travelled on down
Till I came to the suburbs of famed Campbelltown
A respectable hamlet, so tidy and neat
But its name a misnomer, it lasts but one street
The new Orange Hall was next on my jaunt
With volunteer labour this hall has been built
A fine undertaking no one can deny
And the brethren walk proudly on the 12th July.

On up a slight brae till I came to the top
At Dunstown Lane and there stands a fine shop
At the opposite side is the garage also
And over the hill is the milkmen’s depot
Where creamery cans glitter in the rays of the sun
And huge creamery lorries with loads of milk on
A hive of industry as is plain to be seen
Where they powder skim milk and make butter and cream.

Now all ye bold hikers, if you’ve time on your hands
A jaunt through Dunminning accordingly plan
And after you’ve seen it I’m sure you’ll agree
You can’t beat Dunminning for fine scenery
With this I conclude my ramble around
The airs getting chilly, the suns going down
Which brings to an end an enjoyable trudge
So I’ll bid you farewell at Dromona Stick Bridge.

George McNeice

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