Far from the busy city's strife,
From port or crowded town,
There's harmony, there's joy of life,
In peaceful Ballygowan.

There's meadows there beyond compare,
And hills of heather brown,
And rushy bogs with croaking frogs,
In lovely Ballygowan.

The skylark ever upward flies,
Till lost from sight and sound,
And sings her praises in the skies,
Of Heav'nly Ballygowan.

There's many cobbled winding lanes,
That run uphill and down,
It's there you'll meet the maidens sweet,
The pride of Ballygowan.

Such elegance and beauty rare,
Can nowhere else be found,
These lasses are beyond compare,
Who dwell in Ballygowan.

Though many lovely lands I've seen,
And sailed their coasts around,
There's still a part of my young heart,
In dear old Ballygowan.

I've searched the world for happiness,
But nowhere have I found,
Good friends so true as those I knew,
Back home in Ballygowan.

Perhaps one day I will return,
And quiet settle down,
No more I'll roam, but make my home,
In peaceful Ballygowan.

John Clifford (1954)

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John Clifford