Faces From The Past

'Twas not the streams and hills that brought me back home Or the marvellous scenery of the countryside No it is something that I cannot explain For my years of absence I have felt inside. My old friends they seem happy just to see me And our old friends are the dearest friends of all Like me they may have aged grown old and grayer But faces from the past I still recall. The migrant miss his friends more than his Country Though we grow apart in absence some might say But I believe that absence makes the heart grow fonder And my old friends I still recall today. It's good to be back in the Town of Millstreet Though changes have been happening around here Since I left on that bleak day in December One of the cold and wet months of the year. It's good to see some old familiar faces Though many now I do not seem to know And like I say the changes have been happening Since I left almost sixteen years ago. And Clara hill is still the same old Clara Long before there ever was a Millstreet Town He stood there overlooking old Duhallow In his bracken cloak of purply green to brown. The hawthorn in her white of May looks lovely As pretty as I've ever seen before And song thrush and robin and chaffinch are singing In the groves of Claraghatlea and Claramore. I awoke to hear the white backed magpie fluting In the gray dawn of a cool Autumn day And I realized I only had been dreaming Of my Homeland a half a world away.