The banks of my own lovely Lee How oft do my thoughts in their fancy take flight To the home of my childhood away, To the days when each patriot’s vision seem’d bright Ere I dreamed that those joys should decay. When my heart was as light as the wild winds that blow Down the Mardyke through each elm tree, Where I sported and play’d ‘neath each green leafy shade On the banks of my own lovely Lee. And then in the springtime oflaughterr and song Can I ever forget the sweet hours? With the friends of my youth as we rambled along ‘Mongst the green mossy banks and wild flowers. Then too, when the evening sun’s sinking to rest Sheds its golden light over the sea The maid with her lover the wild daisies pressed On the banks of my own lovely Lee The maid with her lover the wild daisies pressed On the banks of my own lovely Lee ‘Tis a beautiful land this dear isle of song Its gems shed their light to the world And her faithful sons bore thro’ ages of wrong, The standard St. Patrick unfurled. Oh! would I were there with the friends I love best And my fond bosom’s partner with me We’d roam thy banks over, and when weary we’d rest By thy waters, my own lovely Lee, We’d roam thy banks over, and when weary we’d rest By thy waters, my own lovely Lee, Oh what joys should be mine ere this life should decline To seek shells on thy sea- girdled shore. While the steel-feathered eagle, oft splashing the brine Brings longing for freedom once more. Oh all that on earth I wish for or crave Is that my last crimson drop be for thee, To moisten the grass of my forefathers’ grave On the banks of my own lovely Lee To moisten the grass of my forefathers’ grave On the banks of my own lovely Lee