COUNTY ANTRIM
There lies beneath the Irish skies
A county sweet and fair,
With hills that proudly rise
And glens of beauty fair;
In County Antrim nature’s art
Is seen on every hand,
With scenes that touch the heart
In dear old Ireland.
Beneath old Antrim’s skies the hills
Rise up to meet the blue,
And famous rivers, rippling rills
Depict their beauties too,
The lovely glens stretch out for miles,
As far as eye can see,
And on their wonders nature smiles
Upon her artistry.
Beneath the Irish skies the trails
They run and twist and bend
Through mossy, sunny, verdant vales
And to the hills ascend.
They wind through town, bogland, lane,
To the mountains grand,
And downward went their way again
All over Ireland.
Beneath the Antrim skies the hill
Of Slemish rises high,
Upright and stalwart, fair and still
Towering to the sky;
Like sentinel it seems to guard
The dearest spot on earth,
Keeping silent watch and ward
O’er the famous North.
Beneath the London skies I dwell,
Far from my native home;
With my heart I feel its spell,
No matter where I roam.
To the exile, life’s a bitter jest,
And nought delights the eyes,
Except the beauties of the west,
The blue of Irish skies.
H.H. McFall
Richmond-on-Thames.
Ballymena Observer 22nd October 1926