Now full of years and far from home, No gossip to enjoy; I capture once again in dreams, My pleasures when a boy. The fair days and the circus tent, The games I played with skill, I long to cling to mem’ries sweet, Of old Kilbrogan Hill.
‘Neath azure skies in sunkissed climes I’ve lingered quite a lot, I viewed Manhattan’s dizzy heights, Yet never glimpsed a spot That sets my heart a-pounding so, That wakens such a thrill; As dear old, grand old, Bandon town, And proud Kilbrogan Hill.
And yet tis not a beauty spot, No toffs or millionaire, But tis my native sacred spot; Dame nature draws me there. I love its very paving stones, Its footbridge by the mill. The Shambles drench my poor dim eyes I love Kilbrogan Hill.
by Patrick Jones poet, mason and proud Bandonian who loved every flagstone of his native town.