Explore "Songs of The Glens of Antrim" by Moira O´Neill on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Loughareema! Loughareema / Lies so high among the heather; / A little lough, a dark lough, / The wather's black an' deep. / Ould herons go a-fishin' there / An' sea-gulls all together / Float roun' the one green island / On the fairy lough asleep.
Loughareema, Loughareema; / When the sun goes down at seven, / When the hills are dark an' "airy", / 'Tis a curlew whistles sweet! / Then somethin' rustles all the reeds / That stand so thick an' even; / A little wave runs up the shore / An' flees, as if on feet.