The Land I Was Born And Raised In Poem by Francis Duggan

The Land I was born and raised in I see her in my dreams
And I hear the gentle babble of her mountain rills and streams
And in the depths of Winter in the morning cold and gray
I hear the redwings chirping in the old fields far away.

The Land I was born and raised in is so green in the Spring
When in her leafy woodlands the wild birds nest and sing
And the hawthorns look resplendent in their white blossoms of the May
And the swallows chirping as they fly from dawn till gloam of day.

The white breasted dipper is singing where the river meets the rill
And the small brown lark is carolling above the bracken hill
The hill that in cold Winter days wears his white hat of snow
The more we learn of Nature's ways the less of her we know we know

In the Land I was born and raised in the Winters are wet and cold
Here in the warmer southern clime perhaps I will grow old
The musk lorikeets are chirping on the blossoming gum trees
And butterflies are dancing in the warm Summer breeze.

In the Land I was born and raised in I did not choose to stay
And I'm now in the twilight of my life the years have left me gray
But like the swallow I may yet fly home for to greet the northern Spring
When bluebells by the bohreen bloom and songbirds chirp and sing.