MACOSQUIN BOB RANKIN, Lambeth Way Coleraine
Who hasn’t heard of old Macosquin:
It’s not far from sweet Coleraine,
Where often in my boyhood days
I rambled round its lanes
It’s known as oul’ Macaskey
By the people far and near,
And the people there are friendly folk,
From Ringrash to Ballinteer.
It was there I first saw the light of day,
A brave wheen of days ago:
Near Macosquin village I was reared
And to school there I did go.
I can see it now, as when a boy –
I played round Mooney’s Mill;
Its working days are over now
And the old mill wheel is still.
There was Willie and wee Robbie,
Two brothers, both well-
Who worked the mill together
But who have long gone home;
And the blacksmith shop beside the burn.
It has gone for ever now.
Where Eaton brothers shod your horse,
Repaired your reaper, or your plough.
And in the summer evenings,
When our daily work was done,
We’d gather at the bridge for a yarn,
Or throw horse shoes for fun:
There were no such things as TV then,
And the wireless was unknown;
You ceilied in some neighbour’s house
Or played a big-
But the village hasn’t changed a lot –
The old church is still there.
And you’ll hear the bell on Sunday
Calling the faithful out to prayer.
The village is quite a big place now:
There’s new houses by the score,
With bathrooms an running water,
And they’ve got numbers on their doors!
And a grand new school to teach the wean,
For the old school as too small;
The new school’s just across the road,
And the old one’s our parish hall.
But in spite of all these changes,
To me it will always be the same.
A wee country village, with kind-
Just plain oul’ Macaskey, three miles from Coleraine.