An Old Country That I Used To Know

Through fields and by ditches and by many a hedgerow
The Araglen down to the Blackwater flow
And on a tall beech tree the grey hooded crow
Is uttering his loud caw that is repetitive and slow.

It was an old Country that I used to know
When I was much younger many Seasons ago
But now from there I live far and time has left me gray
And the clock on my life it keeps ticking away.

But when I visualize the old fields are quite near
And the Araglen's babble I fancy I hear
And by his song the dipper I do recognize
He sings in the river when I visualize.

The cool winds of September down from the north blow
And the hills will soon wear their Winter hats of snow
And the days getting short and the nights getting long
And the thrushes and finches no longer in song.