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Rated: E · Poetry · Arts · #1565169
Memories of a river, though I did not see it for real.
Within your banks shall I be there
to wash off the tiresome mind of mine
Clear it, as though the sky never rained
O Shannon, river in the heart so divine

By the banks of yours I dreamt
I thought, I smiled, I cried and I dwelt
The joy within you had nothing like it
O Shannon, the flow of my guilt

So gay the days of my childhood were
among some blackish and whitish views
My steps were saved upon your waters
O Shannon, remember my old hues?

Sean, Seamus, along with damsel Caitlin
myself as well along with the brethren
Side by side, how merry it was then
O Shannon, still be there awaken?

Mind not O lovely winding silver
for the white hair and the bent back
Allow me to sit by and recall the life
O Shannon, by your so to-be golden bank

O river of my hopes and future
O carrier of my words and gesture
Would you stay or be in departure?
O Shannon, drive me back to my nature
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