I Often Do Think

I often do think of my first home far away
Where i used to live before i grew bald and gray
A place i used to love but where in i did not stay
And where i might well be a stranger today
I would be a stranger to many and many there i would not know
Where River Finnow to the Blackwater flow
I last saw old Clara twenty seven years ago
Even back then time it was becoming my foe
The wanderlust in me for places elsewhere
So much for to see in the big World out there
Far from the damp fields where the rushes in clusters do grow
And River Finnow to the Blackwater flow
The memories nowadays only with me remain
Of faces and places i may not see again.