All the lanes of  Monaghan are heavy with blackberries

And the children carry cans

They fill them in the Summer sun

And sell them to the blackberry man

The Blackberry man has beady eyes

that ripen with the bee

He packs the fruits to the brim in barrels

and sends them o’er the sea

Now the Blackerry man is a happy man

With his house apon the hill

with his pony and trap and bright tweed cap

and men to run his mill

But happier far are the children there

Whose laughter greets the morning air

In the dew-grass lanes of Monaghan,

who fearing neither god nor man

Find the world on the rim of blackberry can


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