Down Dublin Way

Above, the vaulted sky and the hallowed ground below,

While the gurgling waters of the Liffey ebb and flow,

And imperious the silver Needle casts its eye,

At the mere ants who tourists and people belie

And Daniel O’Connell, with statue aloft

Who of the kiss of freedom dreamed soft,

While forever majestic stands Lady GPO,

Still pockmarked with battle’s ire and throe

And in the market the fishmongers and fruiters vie intense

For the precious glint of hard-earned Euros and cents,

And the Garda with peaked cap and belted blue

Mingle silent yet stern among the thronging milieu

And all the while the lilt of the Irish tongue

Floats lazy from the mouths of old and young,

And too the tracksuit-people with hood adorned,

While slow wilts yet another day mourned

Sprightly the dandies saunter through avenue and street,

While Irish melodies and song serve to greet,

And pretty girls rush along with smiles bright,

As the cities golden lights embrace the night

And, when finally the busy day is gone and done,

And a pint of Guinness drunk at the going of the sun,

Still Mother Dublin and dear Joyce remain sublime,

To greet yet another dawn and the march of time