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    Francis Ledwidge

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    The Wife of Llew

      And Gwydion said to Math, when it was Spring:
      "Come now and let us make a wife for Llew."
      And so they broke broad boughs yet moist with dew,
      And in a shadow made a magic ring:
      They took the violet and the meadow-sweet
      To form her pretty face, and for her feet
      They built a mound of daisies on a wing,
      And for her voice they made a linnet sing
      In the wide poppy blowing for her mouth.
      And over all they chanted twenty hours.
      And Llew came singing from the azure south
      And bore away his wife of birds and flowers.

    A Rainy Day in April

    When the clouds shake their hyssops, and the rain
    Like holy water falls upon the plain,
    'Tis sweet to gaze upon the springing grain
    And see your harvest born.

    And sweet the little breeze of melody
    The blackbord puffs upon teh budding tree,
    While the wild poppy lights upon the lea
    And blazes 'mid the corn.

    The skylark soars the freshening shower to hail,
    And the meek daisy holds aloft her pail.
    And Spring all radiant by the wayside pale
    Sets up her rock and reel.

    See how she weaves her mantle fold on fold,
    Hemming the woods and carpeting the wold.
    Her warp is of the green, her woof the gold,
    The spinning world her wheel.

The Lost Ones

Somewhere is music from the linnets' bills,
And thro' the sunny flowers the bee-wings drone,
And white bells of convolvulus on hills
Of quiet May make silent ringing, blown
Hither and thither by the wind of showers,
And somewhere all the wandering birds have flown;
And the brown breath of Autumn chills the flowers.

But where are all the loves of long ago?
O little twilight ship blown up the tide,
Where are the faces laughing in the glow
Of morning years, the lost ones scattered wide
Give me your hand, O brother, let us go
Crying about the dark for those who died.

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