Old Caherbarnagh Poem by Francis Duggan

On the last time I see old Caherbarnagh
The chill of Winter in the morning breeze
And in the farm sheds cattle for fodder bellowing
And rooks were cawing on the naked trees

The fields with frost were gray in Ballydaly
And it did seem a long way from the Spring
And robin he perched silent on the cypress
Too cold even for him to wish to sing.

On the last time I see old Caherbarnagh
The river in the fields bank high did flow
And the morning air one might say was quite chilly
And it was cold quite cold enough to snow.

The clock on our lives ever keeps on ticking
'Til eventually we become victims of time
And on the last time I see old Caherbarnagh
I was a decade then beyond my prime.

On the last time I see old Caherbarnagh
The frosted fields were looking silvery gray
And in the farm sheds the hungry cattle bellowing
Impatient for their silage and their hay.