Till The Day We Do Die

Today in the fields where the Blackwater flow Among the rank rushes the cock pheasant crow And a musical speck in the gray of the sky The mottled brown skylark does sing as he fly On a balmy day in the Summer in the prime of July The dark cormorant out of water stretches her wings out to dry On my flights of fancy such beauty i see I left the old fields but the fields followed me The sun shining bright in the sky blue and gray And plump cattle on lush grass chewing their cuds lay The dark barn swallows in pursuit of flying insects as they fly do sing Migratory birds who do spend most of their waking hours on the wing Old memories remain in me as a source of joy Of where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy Where the chirps and songs of some birds i came to know And my wonder of Nature today only grow The past may be gone but the memories of it remain And in fancy i often visit Duhallow again Those who say the past has gone believe in their own lie As the past will be in us till the day we do die.