The Mountain of Mourne gets my vote, spent many years there
Royal County Down
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ErjvEZZkTEg
Royal Port Rush is fun
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_LbYfR8gEg4
But the Mountains of Mourne keeps calling
Melvyn
Oh common Melvyn SING the praises
Oh Mary this London's a wonderful sight
with the people here working by day and by night
They don't sow potatoes nor barley nor wheat
But there's gangs of them digging for gold in the street
At least when I asked them that's what I was told
So I just took a hand at this digging for gold
But for all that I found there I might as well be
Where the mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea
.
I believe that when writing a wish you expressed
As to how the fine ladies of London were dressed
Well if you believe me, when asked to a ball
They don't wear a top on their dresses at all
Oh, I've seen them myself, and you couldn't in truth
Say if they were bound for a ball or a bath.
Don't be starting them fashions now Mary Macree
Where the mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea
.
I've seen England's king from the top of a bus
I never knew him, though he means to know us;
And though by the saxon we once were oppressed
Still I cheered-God forgive me- I cheered with the rest
And now that he's visited Erin's green shore
We'll be much better friends than we've heretofore
When we've got all we want we're as quiet as can be
Where the mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea
.
You remember young Peter O'Loughlin of course
Well now he is here at the head of the force
I met him today, I was crossing the strand
And he stopped the whole street with one wave of his hand
And there we stood talking of days that are gone
While the whole population of London looked on,
But for all these great powers he's wishful like me
To be back where dark Mourne sweeps down to the sea.
.
There's beautiful girls here - Oh, never you mind
With beautiful shapes Nature never designed
And lovely complexions, all roses and cream
But O'Loughlin remarked with regard to the same,
That if at those roses you venture to sip
The colours might all come away on your lip
So I'll wait for the wild rose that's waiting for me
Where the mountains of Mourne sweep down to the sea
If you have an itunes account Don MacLean does a fine version (thought purists say he played with the melody). Recommended.
What a question. Those of us who have had the opportunity to try and decide, should “count their blessings” (Joseph Locke also does a fine version!).