MISTY HILLS OF HOME

Far away from home and kindred in a city proud and grand,

                Once again my thoughts have wandered, to my own dear native land.

Where the flowers were of the rarest, there I used to roam

                Where the heather blooms the fairest, on the Hills of Home.

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(Chorus)

Ever with the shadows falling,

Happy memories come.

In my dreams I hear you calling

Misty Hills of Home

 

Winter nights are long and dreary, time lies heavy on my hands,

                I have read till I am weary, wondrous tales of many lands.

When great writers praise their Sireland England, France, or Rome,

                Then I breathe a prayer for Ireland and the Hills of Home.

 

(Chorus)

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Only those who know the longing, of an exile’s heart can tell

                How fond memories come a-thronging, of the place I loved so well.

Glens of bracken, gorse and rushes, far across the foam,

                Dark Tyrone among the bushes, and the Hills of Home.

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(Chorus)

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Now the summer sun is shining, seasons, too, must come and go

                Oft I'll watch it's light declining, sinking in a golden glow.

I’ve no time for vain regretting, still my thoughts will roam.

                Oh, to see that red sun setting, on the Hills of Home.

 

(Chorus)

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