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Poem by Francis Ledwidge


Spring and Autumn


Green ripples singing down the corn,
With blossoms dumb the path I tread,
And in the music of the morn
One with wild roses on her head.

Now the green ripples turn to gold
And all the paths are loud with rain,
I with desire am growing old
And full of winter pain. 



Francis Ledwidge


Francis Ledwidge's other poems:
  1. At Currabwee
  2. Old Clo
  3. A Little Boy in the Morning
  4. Thoughts at the Trysting Stile
  5. To a Sparrow


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