(By Frank Conry)
17th October, 2002.

In the north of old Roscommon
Boyle town you'll surely see
In the shade of the Curlieu Mountains
Near the shores of sweet Loch Key.
On the buella bridge you'll stand
And make a wish with me,
In the secrets of Boyle River
The mermaid you will see.
That mermaid holds the secrets
Of the days and years gone by
She knows who told the truth
And she knows who told a lie.
Many times she left that river
And wandered round the town
Sometimes she played an Irish harp
Sometimes she wore a crown.
This Maighdean Abhann is no joke
On that we all agree
'Cause her annals they are written
Near the shores of sweet Loch Key.
The Leprechauns are cautious
They never stay out late
'Cause the Mermaid has them warned
They must be home by eight.
One day she paid a visit
To the Rose of Castlerea
She painted all her petals
And brought her to Loch Key.
She knew every sheep run
From Boyle up to Buckhill
'Twas there she met the Red Coats
And danced the gay quadrille.
The Mermaid of Boyle river
Will never laugh or grin
As she combs her hair by moonlight
On the stone near Assylinn.
She loves the Brislagh Mountains
And never failed to see
The women with their shopping
On the train going to Kilfree.
The Moylurg Writers met her
And asked her what is new
She shed some salty tears
And vanished out of view.
She always hears the heart beat
Of the Sligo train going by
Sometimes she'll wave her tresses
Sometimes she'll sink and cry.
Each night you'll hear her calling
As the clock strikes one two three
'Cause that's the time she's writing
Near the shores of sweet Loch Key.
When her ciphers all are hidden
And at each break of dawn
She moves in eerie silence
Round the grave of Una Bhan
This Misty Maiden gave her name
On a date we cannot see
To the town she paved in magic
Near the shores of sweet Loch Key.
Some day she'll be remembered
In colours never seen
Carved in Irish marble
With seams of blue and green.
Let's all make one great effort
By A.D. double 0 two
To have her statue standing
With her dearest dreams come true.
It's then she'll hold a gala
A ceili ball and spree
And true love knots she'll surely tie
Near the shores of sweet Loch Key.
They'll come from Keash and Keadue
Killaraght and Cloonloo
And the ri-ra ruaille buaille
Will be heard in Timbuktu.