On an Irish jaunting-car through Donegal and Connemara . ouse or window, theres not a field or hill,But, east or west, in foreign lands, Ill recollect them leave my warm heart with you, tho my back Im forced to turn,So adieu to Ballyshannon and the winding banks of Erne! Farewell, Coolmore—Bundoran! and your sum-mer crowds that run From inland homes to see with joy th Atlanticsetting sun; To breathe the buoyant salted air, and sportamong the waves; To gather shells on sandy beach and tempt thegloomy caves; To watch the flowing, ebbing tide, the boats, thecrabs, the fish; Young men and


On an Irish jaunting-car through Donegal and Connemara . ouse or window, theres not a field or hill,But, east or west, in foreign lands, Ill recollect them leave my warm heart with you, tho my back Im forced to turn,So adieu to Ballyshannon and the winding banks of Erne! Farewell, Coolmore—Bundoran! and your sum-mer crowds that run From inland homes to see with joy th Atlanticsetting sun; To breathe the buoyant salted air, and sportamong the waves; To gather shells on sandy beach and tempt thegloomy caves; To watch the flowing, ebbing tide, the boats, thecrabs, the fish; Young men and maids to meet and smile, andform a tender wish; The sick and old in search of health, for all thingshave their turn— And I must quit my native shore and the wind-ing banks of Erne! Near here are the ruins of KilbarronCastle, an ancient fortress of the OClerys,a family renowned in their day for theirskill in science, poetry, and history, ofwhom was Father Michael OClery, theleader of the illustrious quartet of the Four Masters/ It stands on a pre-60. BALLYSHANNON TO SLIGO cipitous rock at the very edge of thecoast. In the vicinity of Ballyshannon canbe seen Ballymacward Castle, which wasbuilt during the famine of 1739. Thiswas the home of the Colleen Bawn,famous in song and story, who was oneof the Ff olliott girls, and eloped with WillyReilly. Now we are on the road to Bundoran,and we had hardly cleared the skirts ofBallyshannon before it began to rain sohard that even had old Noah been withus he could not have bragged much aboutthe Flood. It came in at our collars andwent out at our boots. Our new drivercould not be induced to say a single wordexcept yes or no; he was neither a his-torian, a botanist, nor a geologist, and hetook no interest whatever in ruins; butwe forgave him for all these shortcomings,for he drove his horse steadily onwardthrough the torrent with an unswervingperseverance that covered a multitude ofsins. When we arrived at Bundoransfashionable watering -


Size: 1331px × 1878px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No

Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookidonirishjaunt, bookyear1902