In The Place

In the place i was born in and raised in i did not choose to stay
From there the lure of the wander did lure me away
Back there now the hawthorns are in their white blooms of the May
And in the leafy groves nesting birds sing for to greet the new day

Where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And learning of her ways i still do enjoy
Her wonders are many and her secrets not few
Though of her every day we do learn something new

In places where the Cails and the Finnow do flow
Through old fields and by many a ditch and hedgerow
The finches and thrushes are singing on bushes and trees
In weather pleasant though showery of close to twenty degrees

The cattle out from their wintering sheds of eating silage and hay
On nutriotional grass in the old fields gaining weight by the day
The countryside full of wildflowers and on the ditch of the bohreen
Primroses and snowdrops and bluebells to be seen

Far from the place i was raised in i may breathe my last
And all i have left are memories of the past
But in my flights of fancy i hear the soft lowing of a cow
On a calm twilight in Spring in a field by the Finnow.