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On the road that runs from Sligo
Back to town again,
Round Knocknarea,
By Strandhill and the Glen,
In March, when sidelong twilight
Sets the land aflame
I used to wander: tell me,
Where's the blame?

For I could not walk the town
For fear my heart would drown,
Half-sunk a hundred times
By girlish frowns.
A stranger there
No stranger you will ever see
Than me, who loves
All that in Sligo be.

Now, half the world between me
And that side-lit land,
I bless all those
In Sligo's dreaming stands
Of sycamore and whin,
Likewise the lucky man
Who finds, as I,
His heart at her command.

I was born to walk the road
That runs from there to here,
To learn to love
And never have to fear,
For when I die
I shall have reached the common span
And learned the lessons
God has made for man.

Though time has turned my face
Away from Knocknarea
And brought me far
From there and better days,
So long as I've a mind
For loving memory,
Believe me, Sligo,
I will drink to thee.

So long as I've a mind
For loving memory,
Believe me, Sligo,
I will drink to thee.

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