At This Time Of Year In Duhallow

In rushy places by the Town of Millstreet the brown Finnow waters bank high do flow
When the redwings are back in the old fields and Clara wears his hat of snow
The trees stripped bare by the cold north winds that across Duhallow does blow
And the birds of song are not singing in grove and in windswept hedgerow.

At this time of year in Duhallow the fields by the river often under flood
And the streams from the high ground race down hill bank high the colour of mud
Nights by the fire-side of story telling the elders their youth did recall
Memories of this time of year in Duhallow amongst my best memories of all.

At this time of year in Duhallow storm waters gurgling in the roadside drains
And the river bank high in the old fields swollen by recent heavy rains
And in nostalgic flights of fancy i visit old places again
And only the memories of the past are all that now with me remain.