With Jack The Brown Dog Poem by Francis Duggan

When I was seven years old in nineteen fifty four
I hunted for rabbits in old Claramore
With Jack the brown working dog a young dog then
The boys of the fifties are now ageing men
In his grave Jack has lain now for many a day
In our backyard in Claraghatlea he forever will lay
A devoted companion as I do recall
A four legged friend is the best friend of all
recalling my youth is a thing I enjoy
They were my happiest years when I was a growing boy
But the Seasons came and went and time ticked on by
And on looking back the years seemed to fly
But in my flights of fancy in Johnny Murphy's fields and Pomeroy's bog
I am hunting again with Jack the brown dog.