The Past Has Gone

The past has gone that much we know The past is gone and lost forever And in the past we cannot stay Though from the past we cannot sever. I too am one tied to the past Where-ever to I go to the past does follow It followed me south from the northern shore Far from the ancient hills of old Duhallow. In flights of fancy the high woods I see And the lush green fields around Ballydaly And the leafy groves of green old Claraghatlea Where in the Spring the songbirds whistled gaily. The clear stream from the heights of Claramore Does scurry o'er the pebbles and the gravel Swelled by the drains and rills that into it does flow As onward to the river it does travel. The past has gone and in it we physically cannot live Though I like many to the past keep clinging Many of the songs we sing are from the past And 'tis of the past right now that I am singing.