As I roved out on a summer’s morning,
Down by the banks of Blackwaterside,
To view the groves and the meadows charming,
The pleasant gardens of Castlehyde;
‘Tis there I heard the thrushes warbling,
The Dove and Partridge I now describe;
The lambkins sporting on every morning,
All to adorn sweet Castlehyde.

The richest groves throughout this nation
and fine plantations you will see there;
The rose, the tulip, the sweet carnation,
all vying with the lily fair.
The buck, the doe, the fox, the eagle,
they skip and play by the river side;
The trout and salmon are always sporting
in the clear streams of sweet Castlehyde.

There are fine walks in these pleasant gardens,
the seats most charming in shady bowers.
The gladiaathors both bold and darling
each night and morning to watch the flowers.
There’s a church for service in this fine arbour
where nobles often in coaches ride
To view the groves and the madow charming,
the pleasant gardens of Castlehyde.

There are fine horses and stall-fed oxes,
and dens for foxes to play and hide;
Fine mares for breeding and foreign sheep there
with snowy fleeces in Castlehyde.
The grand improvements they would amuse you,
the trees are drooping with fruit all kind;
The bees perfuming the fields with music,
which yields more beauty to Castlehyde.

If noble princes from foreign nations
should chance to sial to this Irish shore.
‘Tis in this valley they would be feasted
as often heroes have been before.
The wholesome air of this habitation
would recreate your heart with pride;
There is no valley throughout this nation
is beauty equal to Castlehyde.

I rode from Blarney to Castlebarnet,
to Thomastown, and sweet Doneraile,
To Kilshannick that joins Rathcormack,
besides Killarney and Abbeyfeale;
The flowing Nore and the rapid Boyne,
the river Shannon and pleasant Clyde;
In all my ranging and serenading
I met no equal to Castlehyde.