The names of beloved, missed places sing themselves like prayers in songs like this one, suggested to me by my sister from the singing of Colm O'Donnell-his gorgeous recording Farewell to Evening Dances . (On Bogfire-get it)
Thanks to Fidelma Culleton and Donal Rooke of Northampton, Massachusetts for this particular version.
The word "Knocknashee" comes from the Irish cnoc na sidhe, meaning hill of the fairies.

For William, Christopher and Stellan

Good friends we meet in love tonight on Columbia's tranquil shore
Three thousand miles from Erin's isle that we may see no more
Yet dearer still is that fair hill than any other to me
And in our own dlear native tongue we call it Knocknashee

How dear to me fond memories, sweet recollections bring
How often I listened the livelong day to the thrush and blackbird sing
How softly did that cuckoo call, from out yon willow tree
How sweet that sound re-echoed round, the hill of Knocknashee

'Tis often I viewed those lovely hills all blooming in their prime
From Coolaney to Clonacool along the mountainside
The river Moy so gently flews from there into the sea
Farewell, farewell, to Carrowamore and the hill of Knocknashee

There stands the ruined abbey where our people's bones do rest
That ancient land that gave them birth now calls them to her breast
While we are forced to exile by a British tyranny
Farewell, farewell to Carrowamore and the hill of Knocknashee

Farewell unto my Comrades, for to leave you makes me mourn
My warm heart I do leave with you, though my back I'm forced to turn
This lonely song of exile, is all that's left for me
Farewell, farewell to Carrowamore, and the hill of Knocknashee