There are many Irish songs that remind me of my home but this recitation written by John Locke really tugs the heart strings no matter what province you may come from.

"DAWN ON THE HILLS OF IRELAND"

TH'Anam and Dia! but there it is
The dawn on the hills of Ireland,
God's angels lifting the nights black veil
From the sweet smiling face of my sireland
O, Ireland, isn't it grand you look,
like a bride in her rich adorning
And with all of the pent up love in my heart
I give you, the Top o' the mornin"

This one brief hour pays lavishly back
For many a year of mourning
I'd almost venture another flight
There's so much joy returning
Watching out for the hallowed shore
All other attractions scorning
O, Ireland - can't you hear me shout
I bid you the Top o' the Mornin

Ho - Ho - Upon Cliodhna's shelving strand
The surges are grandly beating
And Kerry is pushing her headlands out
To give us the kindly greeting
In to the shore the sea birds fly
On pinions that know no drooping
And out from the cliffs, with welcomes charged
A million of waves come trooping

Oh, kindly generous Irish land
So real and fair and loving!
No wonder the wandering Celt should think
And dream of you in his roving
The alien home may have gems and gold
Dark shadows may never have gleamed it
But the heart will sigh for the absent land
Where the love-light first illumed it

And dosen't old Cobh look grand out there
Watching the wild waves motion
Leaning her back up against the hills
and the tips of her toes in the ocean
I wonder I don't hear Shandon's bells -
Ah maybe their chimings over
For it's many a year since I began

For thirty summers Asthore Machree
The hills I now feast my eyes on
Were never seen, save when they rose
On memory's dim horizon
Even so, it was grand and fair they seemed
In a vision spread before me
But dreams are dreams
And my eyes would ope
To see Texas's skies still o'er me

And often upon the Texan plains
When the day and the chase were over
My thoughts would fly o'er the watery wave
And around the coastline hover
And a prayer would rise that some future day
All danger and doubting scorning
I might help to win for my native land
The light of Young Liberty's morning

Now fuller and clearer the coast line shows
Was ever a scene so splendid
I feel the breath of the Munster breeze
Thank God, that my exile has ended
Old scenes, old songs, old friends again,
The vale and the cot I was born in
O Ireland! up from my heart of hearts
I bid you " The Top o' the Mornin"