When the summer sun is beaming,
And the world is fair and bright.
It is bliss to go a-dreaming
Through the meadows green and white,
To my river where each sally
Holds its parasol on high;
While the soft winds of the valley
Through the leafy branches sigh.

It is sweet to lie at leisure
After heavy labour done,
Feeling there the restful pleasure –
Wooed by wind and kissed by sun;
Watching sun and shadow going
O’er the landscape in a race –
Just like joy and sorrow showing,
In a maiden’s tell tale face.

List’ning to the music tender
Played by Zepeyr’s airy band
On the river’s harp of slender
Osier and of willow wand;
List’ning to the bird notes blending
With the crooning of the breeze
While the river’s song ascending
Harmonises all of these.

O tis sweet to be a-dreaming
By the pleasant riverside,
When the summer sun is beaming –
With fond memories to bide;
Dreams of which these scenes remind me,
Friendships, loves and hopes sublime –
Golden links that firmly bind me
To youth’s olden golden time.

MICHAEL MULLIN, ‘The Bard of Foremass’,
Foremass Lower, Sixmilecross, Co. Tyrone.

3rd verse 4th line osier – other name for sally