Where The Sullane Waters Flow

I visualize the happy times of Seasons long ago In Macroom Town in Mid Cork where the Sullane Waters flow Babbling through a green old countryside on it's journey to the sea Through fields and by hedgerows, ditches and groves it flows eternally It was flowing long before the dinosaur age the river old as time And it has inspired great stories and the mid Cork Poets to rhyme Under the bridge by the Castle Grounds it winds it's way downhill Where in the Spring the glossy one blackbird with golden bill Is singing in the evening breeze on branch of old oak tree The territorial song his ancestors have sung for many a century The hawthorns heavily laden in their blooms of white to gray And lush fields looking beautiful in their wildflowers of the May And the redbreast robin sings in the grove in the green Season of bloom By the Sullane as it babbles on through the fields near old Macroom.