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.

(Refrain)

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.

(Refrain)

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

                Now fond memories come a-thronging,of those scenes I loved so well.

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

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

(Refrain)

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

                Oft I watch its light declining, sinking in a golden glow.

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

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

(Refrain)