DRUMFORK,
A SUMMER'S RESIDENCE.
I love thee, Drumfork, with thine old ivied walls,
As I picture romance by thy time-stricken halls;
While the quaint look of ages, now passing away,
Will dwell on my memory for ever and aye.
As I picture romance by thy time-stricken halls;
While the quaint look of ages, now passing away,
Will dwell on my memory for ever and aye.
I love thee, Drumfork, for the old ivy clings
Around thee as fresh as if Time had no wings,
Like affection's sweet homage, that brings to the heart
A newness of life that will never depart.
Around thee as fresh as if Time had no wings,
Like affection's sweet homage, that brings to the heart
A newness of life that will never depart.
I love thee, Drumfork, with thine old spreading trees,
That would guard from all else but the light summer breeze;
While the sweet smile of sunshine that bursts through the leaves,
Gives as fairy a scene as the fancy e'er weaves.
That would guard from all else but the light summer breeze;
While the sweet smile of sunshine that bursts through the leaves,
Gives as fairy a scene as the fancy e'er weaves.
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