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.
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