The Dear Old Road To Conna

Michael Fitzgerald,
Ballynoe (May 1929)

When the gladsome voice of Nature tells
of summer's golden dawn,
'Tis with sweetest thrill of rapture that
my restless spirit's drawn
To a scene belov'd in boyhood, where my
feet were wont to tread -
It's the dear old road to Conna, with its
arching trees o'erhead.
There the hedgerows, now, are teeming
with a wealth of beauty rare -
Fairest gems of flower and blossom; tones
of colour - fresh and fair.
And amid each bower entrancing, sweet
bird-songs, in chorus gay,
Ever float, in blissful cadence, blending,
thro' the summer day.
With the bride's joy-song of freedom
(that fair stream I love so well,
Ever since the hour, in boyhood, when it
o'er me cast its spell).
Beauteous, as in fairy garlands, are my
hopes and dreamings cast
with that dear old road to Conna, and its
Mem'ries of the past.

Oh! that dear old road to Conna holds a
tender charm for me -
It's charm that still is fairer than of
flower, or bird, or tree.
It's in mem'ry of a maiden, dower'd with
beauty, fresh and fair,
First I met, as in a vision, 'mid the
flowers of summer there.
And, the first sweet glance she gave me
from her eyes of radiant blue,
Told a spirit pure and mirthful, and a
heart that would be true.
And my young heart filled with rapture
(such, till then, I had not known),
At that glance that brought love's crown-
ing ere the summer bright had flown.
And, though time has wrought its
changes since that far-off golden day,
It's but made our path still brighter,
'neath true love's gilded ray ……
Thus in spirit, still I wander, with a
maiden's hand in mine,
Where the dear old road to Conna
breathes of youth and love divine.