The birds sing and whistle from dawn until dark
And amongst the gray clouds the carolling lark
Out of sight in the cumulus as upwards he fly
His sweet voice re-echoes in the morning sky
He fancies he can hear the male pheasant crow
In the fields of Kanturk where the old Allow flow.
The hawthorns resplendent in their white flowers of the May
And the male greenfinch in his courtship display
With wings trembling above the hedge like a butterfly in flight
For to witness it is quite a beautiful sight.
Such beauty comes to him when he visualize
He hears the birds singing in a distant sunrise
Where old Allow flows through old fields far away
With babbling tongue that babbles all night and day.
He remembers the dark and brown dipper with breast white as snow
Perched on a rock around where river rapids flow
And as he did sing his head bobbed up and down
In the ancient Allow by old Kanturk Town.

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