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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.
Francis Ledwidge
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Read poems about / on: sorrow, silence, song, wind, sea
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Francis Ledwidge
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