Two rows of houses, back to back, with worn down steps of
stone.
Once bustling with activity, now standing bare and lone.
I lived there all my childhood years when sorrows I had none
Where each new day brought games and play and boyhood joy and
fun
Many chose
to wander from the shadow of the mill.
Some left to go to England, some went further still.
To America or Australia, those great lands far and wide.
I wonder if they ever think of that place by Laganside?
Or of the sorrows or the good times where they spent their
growing years.
I know myself when ere I think I must hold back the tears
For many a happy moment was spent in that old place.
But now it's dead, it's spirit quenched by lifetime's hectic
pace
Donald Watters