From mid to late Summer the dandelions bloom
By dykes and by ditches by the road to Macroom
The old fields are looking so lush and so green
And Nature's beauty is everywhere for to be seen
In fancy from the rank rushes I watch the lark rise
How sweetly he carols as upwards he flies
Till in the gray clouds from view he disappear
Yet the tinkling notes of the bird I do hear
In small fields of Cloghoula by ditch and hedgerow
The Finnow from the high country downland does flow
Onwards towards Inchaleigh and further on down
Under the river bridges close to Millstreet Town
In the groves of Cloghoula I hear the birds sing
Such joy visualization to me does bring.
By dykes and by ditches by the road to Macroom
The old fields are looking so lush and so green
And Nature's beauty is everywhere for to be seen
In fancy from the rank rushes I watch the lark rise
How sweetly he carols as upwards he flies
Till in the gray clouds from view he disappear
Yet the tinkling notes of the bird I do hear
In small fields of Cloghoula by ditch and hedgerow
The Finnow from the high country downland does flow
Onwards towards Inchaleigh and further on down
Under the river bridges close to Millstreet Town
In the groves of Cloghoula I hear the birds sing
Such joy visualization to me does bring.
