The River Clyde

Once a hub of Irish People

Bustling, working on the Clyde

Building ships in ageing dockyards

Lost within long ravished times

And came the gentle touch of Father

With His voice so calm and still

“Trust always the Love of My Son”

“Look always to do his will”.

Powered by Love for food and shelter

To feed displaced families

Faithful tribes of Irish workers

He called to trust with…

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