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Old Jock

The gorse flowers on the gorse bushes on Summer days bloomed yellow
In the old valley far away when he was a young fellow
And wildflowers in the old fields bloomed on rainy and sunny weather
And the blue ripened bilberries tasted sweet when plucked fresh from the heather..

In hedgerow, leafy grove and wood the finches and the thrushes
In late Spring sang from dawn till dark and through water reeds and rushes
The stream down to the river flowed and old Jock still remember
The dark ripened sloes on the blackthorn tree on the cold days of November.

Old Jock from Scotland in the pub still talks about his childhood
In Spring and Summer far north of here the birds sang in the wildwood
But he won't go back to live out his days since the weather there much colder
Here in this sunny southern Land the ageing gray haired migrant grows older.

When old Jock has a few drinks in he sings Burns 'Afton Water'
And he recites the poem that Campbell penned the famed 'Lord Ullin's Daughter'
And he knows by heart some of the poems of Stevenson, Hogg and Scott that are destined to live forever
His nostalgic ties to the old Homeland the migrant did not sever.

His Scottish accent still with him and it never will forsake him
And it will be with him till the day the Reaper comes to take him
On Friday evenings at the Pub old memories in him waking
He sings the songs of his Homeland and leads in the merry making.

by Francis Duggan

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