Snow of the blackberry bloom, purple of heather bells, The fir and the oak tree boughs with the ivy round them twining; Sheen of a distant lake, brown of the dipping fells, Racing clouds overhead, and the fitful sun a-shining! Bracken and thorn and whin, and somewhere a cheeping bird; Pits of peat, and, then, a cart with its cheery load; In from Dingle Bay the wind with its ancient word; On and up and on—and this is a Kerry road! |