POEM FOR MAY 5TH 2020

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Lament for Thomas McDonagh

He shall not hear the bittern cry
In the wild sky, where he is lain,
Nor voices of the sweeter birds
Above the wailing of the rain.

Nor shall he know when loud March blows
Thro’ slanting snows her fanfare shrill,
Blowing to flame the golden cup
Of many an upset daffodil.

But when the dark cow leaves the moor,
And pastures poor with greedy weeds,
Perhaps he’d hear her low at morn
Lifting her horn in pleasant meads.


Francis Ledwidge
1887 1917

Comments

  1. Sue6 May 2020 at 12:58

    Thanks for this Damien, I found the session very interesting...I looked up the Yellow Bittern poem...a great find

    ReplyDelete

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