Lane to Killarney

What lane is this
Lost in these soft folds of green?
Who wove your way
Wandering around yonder bend?
Bedecked with fully unfurled fern,
The mossy trail trails away ...
A solemn silence, save
Sweet sound of bird unseen

Who trampled your way
Leg-worn and weary,
Wandering homeward
With flock or herd?

This sunken cottage overgrown -
Tumbled timbers
Sagging stone
The welcome-worn doorstep you
So well knew has mossy grown

What air is this -
Gently blown on summer blue?
Breathing deep the heavy dew
This morning light, sun-ray bright
Misted beams beckon beyond
This lane,
The heaving hill
I must clamber o'er.

This lane I must follow also
For tomorrow I may know not .

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