The dark barn swallows do chirp as they fly
In pursuit of flying insects in the sunlit sky
Above the old fields of Duhallow in July
Where it has not rained for a week the weather warm and dry
Though born in a ground nest he must fly to sing
The song of the lark is such a beautiful thing
The warm air full of the buzzing of flies and of bees
And the sweet scent of freshly cut grass wafting in the breeze
Though it sometimes does rain and the sky not always clear
Summer in Duhallow is a nice time of year
Where i grew to love Nature when i was a boy
And learning of her ways remains to me as a source of joy
The little brown lark a musical speck in the sky
Sings above a rushy field in Duhallow in July.
Duhallow In July
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