The Bells of Ireland

Song by Rosalie Sorrels


These are the Bells of Ireland, that in my garden grow,
My great-grandmother brought those seeds from Ireland long ago.
Their music it is wild and sad, like orphaned angels sing,
And you must listen in your soul to hear the Bells of Ireland ring.

My mother’s father had the look of Ireland’s heroes bold,
Strong broad shoulders, raven eyes to look into your soul.
My father’s mother’s face was a map of the roads Maeve’s feet had trod.
Rose of the world, I’m named for her. Lord, I love her lost old sod!

CHORUS

I’ve never been to Ireland, though I sing of the cool green shores,
And I dream I must have lived there some century before.
I weep for the blood and the troubles, and I tend my garden well.
Let the sweet green bells of Ireland out-ring the bells of hell.

CHORUS

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The above is from https://somethingslovely.wordpress.com/category/quotes/ fifth song down.