Between Miltown and Sweet Ennistymon

Between Miltown and sweet Ennistymon's the place
Where my forefathers lived and 'twas there I was raised
Called Illaunbaun beside Derrymore
A mighty bog not far from the shore.
To the north of Mount Callan which gives it a shade
In the cold winds of Winter in warm Summer days
If you ever come by there you will be amazed
Between Miltown and sweet Ennistymon

As you're going out from Inagh on the road to Miltown
Where the Five Crosses meet one going up and two down
Take the first to the right on a back road you're bound
Between Miltown and sweet Ennistymon
How I'd love to be with you to shorten the road
And to tell you the stories that I once was told
And perhaps if you're lucky you might find the gold
Between Miltown and sweet Ennistymon.

Little roads that hoard secrets as they thread their way
Through that blanket of bog where green fields are astray
Just a few man-made notions add to the display
Between Miltown and sweet Ennistymon
'Tis a wilderness beauty that lures strangers eyes
And the old ways of farming in tune with the wild
How I'd love to be back playing there as a child
Between Miltown and sweet Ennistymon.

There are no Burren stones there but wild flowers abound
And a stream disappears that flows under the ground
There's a monument to those who have laid their lives down
Between Miltown and sweet Ennistymon
And the numerous greens to be seen as you go
Heather, furze blossom, ceannabhán white as snow
Famine furrows and ridges where spuds once did grow
Between Miltown and sweet Ennistymon.

The chorus of morning the dawning inspires
And the wild things are sporting in meadow and mire
To awake there once more sure it is my desire
Between Miltown and sweet Ennistymon.
And story filled evenings with songs in the air
Heels and toes tapping the music of Clare
I ask myself now why I did'nt stay there
Between Miltown and sweet Ennistymon.

Ah! my sweetheart of youth from a few miles away
Had to leave with her parents for the far U.S.A.
Now their home long deserted is gone to decay
Between Miltown and sweet Ennistymon
Though our paths never crossed in that far foreign land
I think of her still by her old home I stand
If she had not gone she would wear my gold band
Between Miltown and sweet Ennistymon.

And now at the end of the last harvest day
When the meitheal is gone from the haggard and reagh
Though the flower of youth's faded there's still an array
Between Miltown and sweet Ennistymon
On Moughna's hill and in old Kilfarboy
'Tis there that the bones of my forefathers lie
Now forever I''ll sleep and bid one last goodbye
To old Miltown and sweet Ennistymon.

In this song about the place where I spent many of the good old days, I bring to mind aspects of an area which has a great well of tradition. Stories of hidden gold, lights in the bog and the Banshee were the television of our young days. "American Wakes" and emigration were always to the fore. "They'll never again hear a Clare dog barking" was a common saying as the 'planes headed over our house on their way to New York.