Far North Of This Country

Perhaps i will never see Clara again
Or hear the birds sing in the wind and the rain
Or see the old fields in their wildflowers of May
Far north of this Country in sky miles far away
But i'm back in Claraghatlea when i visualize
And i watch the skylark from the rushes rise
A musical speck in the gray morning sky
He carols so sweetly as upwards he does fly
The now is all that does matter as some rightfully say
But fond memories of what was with us tend to stay
'Tis a beautiful time of year in Duhallow in Spring
In the leafy groves the nesting birds do sing
And the dark winged barn swallows with throat feathers of brown
Are chasing flying insects above the fields near Millstreet Town.