May Not Be By Cashman's Hill

It may not be by Cashman's Hill that my bones forever will lay Since from the Millstreet I loved as a boy I now live some distance away Though it will not matter to me where I will rest forever more Billions of deceased migrants all over the World lay distant from their Homeland shore. The bracken face of Clara Hill in fancy I only can see And the fields of Claraghatlea by Claramore I keep as a fond memory But the years have left me feeling tired to the father of time I do bow And the past to forever has gone we live in the here and the now. The song of the dipper in the stream grows fainter in my thoughts by the day And I struggle for to visualize the fields in their wildflowers of May And what of my friends of the past the years on them are taking toll Old age it does come to us all things natural we cannot control. I do hope for a peaceful end from life a quick painless release But it may not be by Cashman's Hill that my remains will rest in peace The past from my life it has gone though in fancy to it I do cling And often when I visualize in my thoughts the robin does sing.