What Was Has Gone Forever

Only in memory we can go back the years what was has gone forever
But the ties that bind me to the past I find too hard to sever
Perhaps I'll never more see Clara hill near Millstreet in Duhallow
I left there many years ago I had my dreams to follow.

In fancy I am far away far north in distant places
In an old pub in the old Town amongst familiar faces
The dancers they take to the floor to dance the Siege of Ennis
And I one of the non dancers enjoy my pint of guinness.

The past may well be in the past but when old memories awaken
The robin starts singing in the grove his voice can't be mistaken
The rill goes babbling down the hill to the river ever flowing
And swallows fly close to the grass as winds of rain are blowing.

The last time I saw Claraghatlea 'twas a cold day in December
Old Clara wore a hat of snow as I do well remember
But I did not return in Spring as does the migrant swallow
And time is catching up on me far south of old Duhallow.