The Mountains of Mourne by James Aitchison

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In County Down, 

there’s no brighter green,

and the peaks and valleys

are a sight to be seen.

‘Tis old Ireland they sing of 

when bleak winter falls,

and by firesides the heart of 

Ireland still calls.

And when storms the crags

of the mountains have crossed,

they tell of great battles 

forgotten or lost.

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