31. 1912 Ireland Many Years Ago

I think F.A.I. was a bit home sick with this one or had had a few 'drams'



The smell of the earth after the blessed rain brings back to me Ireland many years ago.
When the silver mists were rising from off an emerald plain in darling Ireland of long ago.
When the grass so full of richness was higher than your knee and sap was running wild in every bud and tree.
Ochone and every blossom was full of the honey bee in darling Ireland of long ago. Then smell of the wet things after the bitter draught brings back to me of Ireland of long ago. When all the streams were running and the Hawthorne was out.
When the mountains peaks stood purple above the wisps of clouds and the honey thrush and blackbird sang their songs aloud and the trees dripped with silver till their shining heads were bowed in darling Ireland of long ago.
The thirsty months all drinking that were so parched and dry brings back to me Ireland of long ago for the land ran all refreshment and was praising god thereby in darling Ireland of long ago. When the corucahe ?? called the nigh long in the fields all wet, it isn’t the English nightingale could make me forget. Though long it is and far I’m not forgetting yet
My Darling Ireland of Long Ago

FAI 1912