Back there by the old Finnow river the pink breasted male chaffinch sing <br />And the white breasted dipper sings in the rapids and the first wildflowers of the Spring <br />Are blooming by the hedgerows and in the sheltered places and new leaves sprout on the deciduous trees <br />And the old fields becoming much greener and the Wintery chill has left the breeze <br />On the high fields around Clara mountain the lambs around their mothers play <br />And the yellow buttercups are blooming by the old rill that babbles it's way <br />Downhill on it's way to the river the full bloom of Spring it is near <br />And the small brown wren sings in the hedgerow his voice so melodious and clear, <br />Back there by the old Finnow river as the lamp of dawn brightens the sky <br />The brown lark rises up from the rushes and he carols as up he does fly <br />For to greet the grey dawn of the morning the airborne songster born on the ground <br />His wife on her grass nest cloaked by the rushes her nest that is hard to be found <br />Back there where the old Finnow river winds it's way on down towards Dooneen <br />The wildborn birds they are singing and everywhere is looking so green.<br /><br />Francis Duggan<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/back-there-by-the-old-finnow-river/
