On Reading Poems Of Goldsmith

The poet Oliver Goldsmith lives in his verse today
And his 'Deserted Village' refuse to decay
And despite times passage the great beauty still shines
Through many of the great poet's marvellous rhymes.

Well written poetry never out of date
And to 'Goldsmith's Village' I too can relate
For I too cling to childhood and the past
Though clouds o'er memory now seem overcast.

And still the fading memories with me stay
Though Millstreet of my past seems far away
The elders of my youth with me remain
And mental pictures of them I retain.

They were my mentors in my childhood years
And each sad passing woke the sleeping tears
But I see them still as when I was a boy
And I'll remember them until I die.

And I still see the fields of Millstreet in my dreams
And I hear the dippers piping in the streams
And from Claramore I see the little rill
By briery hedgerow splashing down the hill.

I climb the high ground up through Pomeroy's field
Up to the hill where grass to bracken yield
The lark is piping in the morning sky
And Blackbird singing in the wood nearby.

In Spring nostalgia comes to visit me
And Clara's bracken face again I see
Old Clara hill as ever looking down
On fields and groves that border Millstreet Town.

And though I love this Land it has been good to me
A migrant here is all I'll ever be
And the years have left me looking old and gray
And I'd be a stranger now in Claraghatlea.

The years bring change and memories only last
And like Goldsmith who felt homesick for the past
The memories of what was with me remain
And my old friends come to visit me again.