It has been many years since i see Clara Hill
And heard the familiar babble of the silver tongued rill
That flows by my first home from here far away
I do live far south of Claraghatlea today
The Finnow bank high in flood waters of brown
Flowing in the rushy fields just west of Millstreet Town
And the swallows in pursuit of flying insects fly
On a morning in Spring across the gray sky
In the place where i grew to love Nature as a young boy
And learning of her ways today i enjoy
For friends of the past i have not seen for years
I may well have shed my last nostalgic tears
But when i visualize i hear a male robin sing
On a leafy birch tree in a far away Spring.
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