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