Eire, the Green Eye

When I looked across the moor I knew that I was home, the rolling dusk setting upon my sea, I looked down the cliff and saw the crashing waves, and I knew that it was mine. I felt the vagrant breezes, touching my cheek in jest, and I knew that I was the wind's. The moon rose silkily above my meandering streams, and I cried tears of hope, silent , ageless hope. I am the land, the green land, the Green Eye of the Northern Seas. I am Eire, great, beautiful, Ireland.