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. The Lost Ones
2. A Mother's Song
3. At Currabwee
4. Thoughts at the Trysting Stile
5. The Little Children

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