TO HIS WIFE

We stand and gaze at the Antrim Hills,
And mark their summits blue,
No place can ever lovelier be,
Twas there I first met you.

We’ve wandered far in thirty years,
Seen many joys and ills,
But now we’ve crossed the stormy wave,
And live midst Antrim’s Hills.

From here we’ll never move again,
No matter what betide,
In Antrim’s clay we’ll both be laid,
And sleep there, side by side.

And on the resurrection morn,
You know God’s word is true,
We’ll rise with joy and look again,
On Antrim’s hills so blue.

Written by James Hoey
About 1945

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