Hills Of Knocknashee waltz

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X: 1
T: Hills Of Knocknashee
R: waltz
M: 3/4
L: 1/8
K: Dmaj

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Hills Of Knocknashee


Dear friends, we meet in love tonight on Columbus’ tranquil shore
Three thousand miles from Erin’s isle that we might see no more
Far dearer still is that fair hill than any other to me
And in our own dear native tongue we call it Knocknashee.

How dear to me fond memories, sweet recollections bring
How oft I listened the livelong day to the thrush and blackbird sing
How softly did that cuckoo call, from out yon hollow tree
How sweet that sound re-echoed round the hill of Knocknashee

How deeply pictured in my mind, those places from there I’ve seen.
There’s Keash and Geevagh, Ballymote and the hills around Gurteen
The lakes and groves round Temple House and Streamstowns spreading lee
May the heavens be with you Carrowmore and the hill of Knocknashee

There stands the ruined Abbey where our people’s bones now rest
That same dear land that gave them birth now calls them to her breast
Whilst I am forced to leave my home by a foreign tyranny
Farewell, farewell to Carrowmore and the hill of Knocknashee

’tis often I viewed your mighty crops all blooming in their prime
From Coolaney on to Clonacool along the mountainside
The river Moy so gently flows from there into the sea
Farewell to you, farewell to all and the hill of Knocknashee

Farewell to evening dances where all merry comrades meet
Where the fiddler says ‘now boys and girls get up and shake your feet’
’tis there you’d find a Colleen fair that would fill your heart with glee
I’d risk my life to make my wife, a girl from Knocknashee

Farewell to you great comrades all, for to part you makes me mourn
My warm heart I do leave with you, though my back I’m forced to turn
One hundred chances are to one that I never more will see
Those good and kind old neighbors round the hill of Knocknashee

The times have changed since I have left, dark heads are turned gray
Young lives rise by every hearth while the old ones fade away
This mournful song of exile, sure ’tis all that’s left for me
So Farewell, farewell, to Carrowmore and the hill of Knocknashee