The Great Gift Of Fancy Comments

I fancy I can hear the male chaffinch singing at the verge of the wood on a silver birch tree
And over the meadows the dark swallows are flying their swiftness and gracefulness in flight is a pleasure to see
And bluebells and primroses on the ditch of the bohreen and snowdrops as white as the new fallen snow
I thought that my past I had left behind me but my past it is with me where ever I go,
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