Cumann Staire

There lies a meek, holy and beautiful lake

Where nothing can rival with a surface so lovely

As the breeze that comes down from that mountain so bleak.

Descending quite rapidly those sparkling white fountains

To swell its blue waters, majestic and calm.

Surrounded by lofty precipitous mountains

There lies the blessed island of lonely Gougane.

Now fair Inchigeela in scenes they are splendid

With beautiful valleys, long head lands and breaks

And among their bright scenes we are surely out numbered

By breakwater lilies that survive in the lake.

Fair Ballingeary is famed in proportion

That beautiful village with its well shaven lawns

Yet nothing sublime can excite your emotions

Until you are approaching sweet lonely Gougane.

By Ceims lovely pass the rocks do assemble

I'm sure they would fill the spectator with awe

Fearing each moment that downward they'll tumble

And give the spectator no time to withdraw.

But the cliffs are so steep that the deer stands in danger

It being the retreat of the Ro-buck and fawn

Themselves so sublime for in awaiting the stranger

To come to the place they call lonely Gougane.

Now this beautiful island was once deeply planted

The trees are now moulding unto decay,

Where really its focus is a place of enchantment

Where many a poor pilgrim so often did pray.

The days of Finbarr, the saint so distinguished

Prove worthy treasures retired and withdrawn

It's cells are still seen in the ruins of the abbey

That lies in that island of lonely Gougane.

Not I to be gifted like Homer the Grecian

Or had I the genius of famed Callinan