So few from Duhallow nowadays I do meet
And since it has been awhile now since I've lived in Millstreet
Where Finnow to Blackwater through rushy fields flow
So few faces there nowadays I could hope to know.
The past returns to me when I visualize
And familiar faces I do recognize
And though my childhood mentors in Nature's bosom lay
They are living on in my memory today.
Though nostalgia now seldom does move me to tears
For faces and places I've not seen for years
The song of the robin I fancy I hear
In the grove by my old home melodious and clear.
The lark above Clara a speck in the sky
Up to the gray cloud world he sing as he fly
His partner in the bracken hidden in her nest
With the larks of the future kept warm by her breast.
The years have left me looking older and gray
And in Millstreet I may feel a stranger today
But fond memories of what was with me does remain
And in fancy I visit Duhallow again.