There's a bower of roses by Bendermeer's stream
and the nightingale sings round it all the day long.
In the time of my childhood t'was like a sweet dream
to sit in the roses and hear the bird's song.
That bow'r and it's music I never forget
but oft when alone in the bloom of the year
I think, Is the nightingale singing there yet
are the roses still bright by the calm Bendermeer?
~ Irish Folksong ~
Saturday, August 23, 2003
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