<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=567271" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Oh I Must Go Home To Millstreet</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The singing birds of Millstreet are calling, calling me<br>In my dreams I hear them whistling far beyond the deep wide sea<br>The green, green wood by Clara hill is always on my mind<br>On the day that I left Millstreet I left my heart behind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Buttercups bloomed by the grass fringed rills and larks piped in the skies<br>As I said goodbye to Clara hill with teardrops in my eyes<br>The blue bluebells were blooming along the green bohreens<br>On the day that I bade farewell to Millstreet and her meadows and her streams.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The farmers mow the lush green meads that surround Millstreet Town<br>As the heathery face of Clara on them lovingly looks down<br>The shlaun men shlaun the shiny dark peat and the pikes are on the sway<br>In Gneeves bog outside of Millstreet on this bright Summer's day.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh I must go back to Ireland to the Land where I was born<br>Just to hear again the birds sing on a Spring like April morn<br>Oh I must go home to Millstreet for 'tis there I'd love to die<br>And be buried under Millstreet earth beneath an Irish sky.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Francis+Duggan">Francis Duggan</a><div class=q> <img src="https://www.citatepedia.ro/g/32share.png" style="float:left" alt="Share"> <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=567271" data-title="Oh I Must Go Home To Millstreet de Francis Duggan" data-description="The singing birds of Millstreet are calling, calling me In my dreams I hear them whistling far beyond the deep wide sea The green, green wood by Clara hill is always on my mind On the day that I left Millstreet I left my heart behind. Buttercups ..."></div> </div> </div>

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