I Often Do think Of The Beauty I've Seen

I often do think of the beauty i've seen
When bluebells bloomed on the ditch of the bohreen
And hawthorns were cloaked in their white blossoms of May
In that old green Country from here far away

The dipper does sing where the Finnow does flow
Through fields where the rushes in clusters do grow
And where the shy male pheasant does cuck and crow
When the cool winds of Spring from the high country blow

The ever pleasant memories with me do remain
Of places in real life i won't see again
In fancy the male robin i hear and see
On a leafy branch of a silver birch tree

Up to the gray clouds of the mid morning sky
The little brown skylark carols as he fly
A fading speck till from view he disappear
His familiar music so pleasant to hear

The clock on my life ever ticks on and on
And the now is all that matters the past it has gone
Still in my flights of fancy the chaffinch does sing
In a leafy grove in the prime of the Spring.
 
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