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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=536720" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Adieu to Belshanny</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Adieu to Belashanny! where I was bred and born; <br>Go where I may, I'll think of you, as sure as night and morn. <br>The kindly spot, the friendly town, where every one is known, <br>And not a face in all the place but partly seems my own; <br>There's not a house or window, there's not a field or hill, <br>But, east or west, in foreign lands, I recollect them still. <br>I leave my warm heart with you, tho' my back I'm forced to turn <br>Adieu to Belashanny, and the winding banks of Erne!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">No more on pleasant evenings we'll saunter down the Mall, <br>When the trout is rising to the fly, the salmon to the fall. <br>The boat comes straining on her net, and heavily she creeps,<br>Cast off, cast off - she feels the oars, and to her berth she sweeps; <br>Now fore and aft keep hauling, and gathering up the clew. <br>Till a silver wave of salmon rolls in among the crew. <br>Then they may sit, with pipes a-lit, and many a joke and 'yarn'<br>Adieu to Belashanny; and the winding banks of Erne! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The music of the waterfall, the mirror of the tide,<br>When all the green-hill'd harbour is full from side to side,<br>From Portnasun to Bulliebawns, and round the Abbey Bay,<br>From rocky inis saimer to Coolnargit sand-hills gray;<br>While far upon the southern line, to guard it like a wall,<br>The Leitrim mountains clothed in blue gaze calmly over all,<br>And watch the ship sail up or down, the red flag at her stern<br>Adieu to these, adieu to all the winding banks of Erne!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Farewell to you, Kildoney lads, and them that pull on oar,<br>A lug-sail set, or haul a net, from the Point to Mullaghmore;<br>From Killybegs to bold Slieve-League, that ocean-Mountain steep,<br>Six hundred yards in air aloft, six hundred in the deep,<br>From Dooran to the Fairy Bridge, and round by Tullen Strand,<br>Level and long, and white with waves, where gull and Curlew stand;<br>Head out to sea when on your lee the breakers you Discern!<br>Adieu to all the billowy coast, and winding banks ofErne!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Farewell, Coolmore - Bundoran! And your summercrowds that run<br>From inland homes to see with joy th'Atlantic-setting sun;<br>To breathe the buoyant salted air, and sport among the waves; <br>To gather shells on sandy beach, and tempt the gloomy caves; <br>To watch the flowing, ebbing tide, the boats, the crabs, The fish; <br>Young men and maids to meet and smile, and form a tender wish; <br>The sick and old in search of health, for all things have their turn <br>And I must quit my native shore, and the winding banks of Erne! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Farewell to every white cascade from the Harbour to Belleek<br>And every pool where fins may rest, and ivy-shaded creek; <br>The sloping fields, the lofty rocks, where ash and holly grow, <br>The one split yew-tree gazing on the curving flood below; <br>The Lough, that winds through islands under Turaw mountain green; <br>And Castle Caldwell's stretching woods, with tranquil bays between; <br>And Breesie Hill, and many a pond among the heath and fern <br>For I must say adieu-adieu to the winding banks of Erne! </div><div style="margin:10px 0">The thrush will call through Camlin groves the live- long summer day; <br>The waters run by mossy cliff, and banks with wild flowers gay; <br>The girls will bring their work and sing beneath a twisted thorn, <br>Or stray with sweethearts down the path among growing corn; <br>Along the river-side they go, where I have often been, <br>O never shall I see again the days that I have seen! <br>A thousand chances are to one I never may return <br>Adieu to Belashanny, and the winding banks of Erne!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Adieu to evening dances, when merry neighbours meet, <br>And the fiddle says to boys and girls, &quot;Get up shake your feet!&quot;<br>To 'shanachus' and wise old talk of Erin's gone by - <br>Who trench'd the rath on such a hill, and where the bones may lie <br>Of saint, or king, or warrior chief; with tales of fairy power, <br>And tender ditties sweetly sung to pass the twilight hour. <br>The mournful song of exile is now for me to learn <br>Adieu, my dear companions on the winding banks of Erne!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now measure from the Commons down to each end of the Purt, <br>Round the Abbey, Moy, and Knather - I wish no one any hurt; <br>The Main Street, Back Street, College Lane, the Mall,and Portnasun, <br>If any foes of mine are there, I pardon every one.<br>I hope that man and womankind will do the same by me; <br>For my heart is sore and heavy at voyaging the sea.<br>My loving friends I'll bear in mind, and often fondly turn <br>To think of Belashanny, and the winding banks of Erne.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">If ever I'm a money'd man, I mean, please God, to cast <br>My golden anchor in the place where youthful years were pass'd; <br>Though heads that now are black and brown must meanwhile gather gray, <br>New faces rise by every hearth, and old ones drop away <br>Yet dearer still that Irish hill than all the world beside; <br>It's home, sweet home, where'er I roam, through lands and waters wide. <br>And if the Lord allows me, I surely will return <br>To my native Belashanny, and the winding banks of Erne.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=William+Allingham">William Allingham</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=536720" data-title="Adieu to Belshanny de William Allingham" data-description="Adieu to Belashanny! where I was bred and born; 
Go where I may, I'll think of you, as sure as night and morn. 
The kindly spot, the friendly town, where every one is known, 
And not a face in all the place but partly seems my own; 
There's not a ..."></div>
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