A Rainy Day In Claramore

The swallows that fly above old Claramore
Will soon be on their way to a distant shore
The days growing short and the nights growing long
And the birds of the hedgerows seem bereft of song
And old Clara Hill that overlooks Millstreet Town
Is hiding today in his foggy gray gown
And the stream in brown flood is flowing with a will
Bank high to the river down the field by the hill
And the cool rain of Autumn is drizzling down
On high Claramore two miles from Millstreet Town
The sun in the rain clouds is hidden away
Tomorrow perhaps will be a finer day
And the cawing of the rooks high on the beech trees
In the high countryside is carrying in the breeze.