There’s a pretty spot in Ireland
I always claim for my land.
Where the fairies and the blarney
Will never never die.
It’s the land of the shillalah,
My heart goes back there daily
To the girl I left behind me
When we kissed and said goodbye.
Where dear old Shannon’s flowing,
Where the threeleaved Shamrock’s grows,
Where my heart is I am going,
To my little Irish rose.
And the moment that I meet her
With a hug and kiss I’ll greet her,
For there’s not a colleen sweeter,
Where the River Shannon flows.
Sure no letter I’ll be mailing
For soon will I be sailing,
And I’ll bless the ship that takes me
To my dear old Erin’s shore.
There I’ll settle down forever
I’ll leave the old sod never,
And I’ll whisper to my sweetheart, “Come and take my name As thore.”
Russell, James I., "Where the River Shannon Flows" (1906). Historic Sheet Music Collection. 1730.
The views expressed in this paper are solely those of the author.