Around the north corner I wander and roam, Where gale and the gannet skim o'er the foam. I'll stand where the land falls away to the sea, With dune and seashell between water and me. Out to the West from whence the wind blows, Dark Donegall hills where the sun always goes, Then to one's right at the 'White Rocks' to stare, Scene to be savoured so splendidly rare. Head of the Giant his beard on the shore, Captured in stone with his nose to the fore; Sea spirits eternal, dance around him with grace, So always he has a smile on his face.
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