Over here in England I'm helpin' wi' the hay,
And I wisht I was in Ireland the livelong day;
Weary on the English hay, an' sorra take the wheat!
Och! Corrymeela, an' the blue sky over it. ...
None who saw it ever told it
'Tis as hid as Death
Had for that specific treasure
A departing breath-
Surfaces may be invested
Did the Diamond grow
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