The Maid of Slievenamon

Alone, all alone, by the wave-washed strand

All alone in the crowded hall;

The hall it is gay, and the waves they are grand,

But my heart is not here at all.

It flies far away, by night and by day

To the times and the joys that are gone-

Ah! I never can forget, the maiden I met,

In the valley of Slievenamon.



It was not the grace of her queenly air,

Nor her cheek of the rose’s glow,

Nor her soft black eyes, not her flowing hair

Nor was it her lily white brow; ‘Twas the soul of truth, and of melting ruth,

And the smile like a summer dawn,

That sold my heart away one mild May day,

In the valley of Slievenamon.



In the festive hall – by the star watched store –

My restless spirit cries –

“My love – Oh, my love – shall I never see you more?

And my land – will you ever uprise?”

By night and by day, I ever, ever pray –

While lonely my life flows on –

To see our flag unrolled, and my true love to unfold

In the valley of Slievenamon.



Charles J. Kickham


“Slievenamon” is the Tipperary Anthem, roared with gusto at every Tipp hurling match.

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