That lonely place on Penrose Quay, Where many a tear was shed; Cork's finest sons and daughters wept, Cork's youth was then being bled; A ship was waiting on the shore, To take them all away; To London, Coventry, Birmingham, New York and Botany Bay. Like the wild geese they had to go, To save those left behind; The pride of Cork were leaving us, The gentle and the kind; They worked in foundries, building sites, and slaved in coalmines too; sweat and toiled in hotel Read more [...]