In Cullen in Duhallow where the Araglen waters flow
The cold winds of November across the old fields blow
Upon a naked beech tree a silver back hooded crow
Familiar in his harsh cawing on a day threatening to snow
Old Araglen bank high babbling through fields as old as time
That often inspired the long dead bards to story, song and rhyme
Learning about Nature as a youngster i used to enjoy
In my uncle Dan and aunt Mary's farm in Summer in Lisnaboy
Often in my visualizations the sweet scent of new mown hay
Coming from the sunlit meadows on a warm and sunny day
And dark winged barn swallows above the old fields fly
In the prime of the Summer in beautiful July
But in Cullen in Duhallow 'tis cold and damp today
Near the calendar Winter and Spring seems far away.
The cold winds of November across the old fields blow
Upon a naked beech tree a silver back hooded crow
Familiar in his harsh cawing on a day threatening to snow
Old Araglen bank high babbling through fields as old as time
That often inspired the long dead bards to story, song and rhyme
Learning about Nature as a youngster i used to enjoy
In my uncle Dan and aunt Mary's farm in Summer in Lisnaboy
Often in my visualizations the sweet scent of new mown hay
Coming from the sunlit meadows on a warm and sunny day
And dark winged barn swallows above the old fields fly
In the prime of the Summer in beautiful July
But in Cullen in Duhallow 'tis cold and damp today
Near the calendar Winter and Spring seems far away.
