From High Claramore Poem by Francis Duggan

From high Claramore it flows quickly downhill
On through flatter Claraghatlea the silver tongued rill
On towards the river it flows with a will
By night and by day it's tongue is never still

Going back the years many Seasons ago
Long before time itself became my foe
I remember in the grove the wild nesting birds did sing
That bordered the rill in the prime of the Spring

But from the leafy grove just west of Millstreet Town
For road widening the council workers cut all of the trees down
And where once was a grove of trees that to Nature belong
The Springs came and went without the music of birdsong

But the silver tongued rill by night and by day
Flowed on towards the river towards the sea far away away
And though to where i live now not anywhere near
It's voice in my dreams sometimes i does hear

But the now is what matters since the past it has gone
And tomorrow will dawn and life does go on
And in a nearbypaddock birds i often hear and see
The magpie larks are singing their familiar pee wee