As I walked out one May morning All still under monochrome sky Sleep lay heavy on rounded shoulders Head lowered, I made my way Up along the old bog road Past O'Donnell's, across the ditch Turned my gaze towards Ox Mountains To where Anne used to sing Come down from the moor Your children's children leaving Gone to find a job Ten thousand miles away Early spring, turf cutting time Backs bent double against the line Neatly stacked, quickly sacked Move along and put away Anne's song pure as mountain air Could be heard singing: The Silvery Tide Shafts of Sun on a foggy day Hand-me-down of hope denied Come down from the moor Your children's children leaving Gone to find a job Ten thousand miles away Ten thousand miles away As cool respite to jaunty jigs Gathered amidst familial craic Of uncles and cousins and daddy's voice Mellifluous in recitation Passed down through the generations Shared heartbeat of this congregation Now pulsing for a better seam Far beyond the silvery tide