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When Last I Saw Old Clara

When last i saw old Clara he wore his hat of snow
And Finnow from the high ground with a loud babble did flow
Bank high in fields of Inchaleigh and Claraghatlea in flood waters of brown
On it's way to the Blackwater just west of Millstreet Town

The sun does seldom ever shine on an Irish winter day
And the frosted fields of morning in their december gray,
Since last i saw old Clara twenty five years ago
I have grown older but not wiser and time has become my foe

Migrant redwings from the Northlands chirped on the bare hedgerow
And cattle for fodder in the farmshed did bellow
The deserted fields echoed to the cawing of the gray backed crow
And from Caherbarnagh the wind with a chily breath did blow

The stream swollen by recent downpours with babbling tongue that's never still
Went splashing bank high to the river from it's birthplace the field by the hill
And Clara in white hat of winter stood silent above Claramore
As i left the fields of Duhallow for the sunny far southern shore.

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