The swallows fly above the old fields all day
And the birds nest and sing in the woods far away
But i won't be there when the Spring is in bloom
And the valley is fragrant with Nature's perfume.
In the tall reeds of the river pool the wary moorhen cry
To warn her chicks of danger nearby
And three tiny dark chicks in cover disappear
They've learned from mother her call which warn them to fear
Human kind and predators and of them to stay clear
And hide themselves if predators they see or if footsteps they hear
In the wilds of Nature the fittest survive
And only the wariest do stay alive.
And i won't be there when Nature's wild-flowers
Bloom in the lush fields in the mild April showers
And bluebells and primroses on the ditch by the bohreen
I do often recall the great beauty I've seen.
And i won't be there for to welcome the Spring
And in the leafy grove hear the male robin sing
But white blossoms do bloom on the hawthorn tree
And life in the old parish goes on without me.
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