Fare thee well Lisburn, for I’m laving you,
I’m aff in the morn till try pastures new.
I’m sorry till lave ye, but then sure I must,
for I have been bitten by the wander lust
You have seen many of us depart in the past,
I’m not the first and I won’t be the last.
I'll think aff ye often, my heart will be sore
When I’m over the scheugh on England’s fair shore,
or read on old Liberty “ Send me your poor “
You’ll be in my heart, I know that for sure
Memories of Hilden will stay in my mind,
when I'm old and feeble, deaf, bald and blind
I'll hear the mill horn, the tramping of feet,
the knockers up wakening the workers from sleep.
The smell of the flax, the noise of the mill.
Sounds from the wee park, and the EMB still,
do live in my dreams and I hope that they will
as long as I live follow me still.
Donald Watters born 01 June 1944, Lock View Lisnatrunk