As I went up the road, I stopped for a rest
I sat at poets corner and looked into the west
The sun was going down with a crimson glow
And a white mist was filling the valley below
I could see three counties from where I stood
Here on the road by the cross of the wood
The white tipped Galtees reaching up to the sky
And the hills of Cork, like clouds rolling by
The road to the south that we walked to school
The Feenagh line it was called as a rule
To the east of the cross, where songbirds are humming
Is a big stretch of land we knew as Drumlin
On the fifteenth of August, going to Castletown well
You passed Heather Lodge, overlooking the Dell
On the Ramhorn line are the forestry gates
Where people meet and walk with their mates
To the west of the cross is a public well
It’s been there a long time that much I can tell
At the bend of the road stood the old crab tree
People said it was haunted and strange things they did see
That was back in the days of old
But each you passed it your blood ran cold
Then the great house with its sweeping drive
And the lions on the piers who we thought were all alive
Inside these walls, the gate lodge still stands
It has seen many changes and changed many hands
At the back of the lodge was the old tennis court
Where the Lloyds and their friends once played the lawn sport
A bit further on is the back avenue
Where another lodge stood, but is now gone from view
The site of the Lime-Kiln is there to this day
Where fertilizer was made in the old fashioned way
At the bend of the road is the old farmyard
Ravaged by time and left badly scarred
The big stone piers and double gates
Were once all part of the Lloyd estate
The barracks in Heathfield you can no longer see
They are gone like the men of the old R. IC
By: Jim Moloney