In Derry Vale, beside the singing river,
   so oft I strayed, ah, many years ago,
   and culled at morn the golden daffodillies
   that came with spring to set the world aglow.

   Oh, Derry Vale, my thoughts are ever turning
   to your broad stream and fairy-circled lea,
   for your green isles my exiled heart is yearning,
   so far away across the sea.

   In Derry Vale, amid the Foyle's dark waters,
   the salmon leap above the surging weir,
   the seabirds call—I still can hear them calling
   in night's long dreams of those so dear.

   Oh, tarrying years, fly faster, ever faster,
   long to see the vale belov'd so well,
   I long to know that I am not forgotten,
  |:and there at home in peace to dwell.:|

Golden Daffodillies