In the prime of Summer on warm July
Countless stars shining in the clear sky
The scream of a barn owl echoed in the still of the night
And the cross on Clara was visible in the moonlight
In the quiet fields with a silver tongue that is never still
The babbling song of the Claramore Rill
In fields of Claraghatlea by ditch and hedgerow
On to the river as ever does flow
Out hunting for prey in a field nearby
The familiar shrill sound of a fox's wild cry
A watchdog in a yard barking and a rooster in a fowl shed crowing
And a cow in a field to her calf was lowing
Till i woke from sleep in the dawning gray
To the warbling song of a magpie on a November Spring day.
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