A Memory Of Long Gone Years

The song of the robins I fancy I hear In Claramore wood in the Spring of the year A memory from long gone years I do retain Despite the passing of time in me it does remain On my flights of fancy my thoughts often stray In the twilight after sunset on evenings in May In the high wood by Clara the robins did sing Their distinctive and familiar songs in the prime of the Spring But this in retrospect seems so long ago And since time that ages has become my foe In the distance the flickering street lights of Millstreet Town Bordered by the darkening fields in day's fading light post sundown A memory to cherish and with me to stay For as long as I live until my dying day.