Poem by Francis Ledwidge

To One Dead

A blackbird singing
On a moss-upholstered stone,
Bluebells swinging,
Shadows wildly blown,
A song in the wood,
A ship on the sea.
The song was for you
and the ship was for me.

A blackbird singing
I hear in my troubled mind,
Bluebells swinging,
I see in a distant wind.
But sorrow and silence,
Are the wood's threnody,
The silence for you
and the sorrow for me. 

1. Old Clo
2. Lament for Thomas Mcdonagh
3. Ceol Sidhe
4. After Court Martial
5. Lady Fair

Print

1424 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version