Since For All Of Us A Final Night And Day Poem by Francis Duggan

Some live till they die in the place they were born in and others from their old homes go to live elsewhere
The wanderlust in their young years was in them to see some of the bigger World out there
And I've known ageing people in their seventies and eighties whilst talking of their Hometown close to tears
Though their great grandchildren are in their late teens and they had not seen the old Homeplace for years,
We all must die sometime since we are mortals that is a fact of life and nothing new
And those who live to their one hundreth birthday to say the very least are very few
Some die as babies and some die as teenagers and some do pass on when in their life's prime
On how long we have to live we do not know the answer the Reaper is the one who does call on us time,
I do know what it feels like to be a migrant I came to live here from another Land
And that alcohol can stir up the nostalgia is something that's not hard to understand
Some people have a great love for their Homeland though for years they have not seen their native shore
As for me I'm one of those who miss the Homeplace and the fields of Claraghatlea and Claramore,
Some live till they die in the place where they were born in whilst from their old home some live far away
But where-ever we live to be happy only matter since for all of us a final night and day.