A Rainy Day In Claramore

The swallows that fly above old Claramore Will soon be on their way to a distant shore The days growing short and the nights growing long And the birds of the hedgerows seem bereft of song And old Clara Hill that overlooks Millstreet Town Is hiding today in his foggy gray gown And the stream in brown flood is flowing with a will Bank high to the river down the field by the hill And the cool rain of Autumn is drizzling down On high Claramore two miles from Millstreet Town The sun in the rain clouds is hidden away Tomorrow perhaps will be a finer day And the cawings of the rooks high on the beech trees In the high countryside is carrying in the breeze.