Francis Ledwidge

(19 August 1887 – 31 July 1917 / Janeville, Slane)

Francis Ledwidge Poems

41. To One Dead 1/3/2003
42. Lament For Thomas Mcdonagh 1/3/2003
43. A Rainy Day In April 1/3/2003
44. A Little Boy In The Morning 1/3/2003
45. Lament For The Poets: 1916 1/3/2003
46. My Mother 1/3/2003
47. Behind The Closed Eye 1/3/2003
48. Fairies 4/16/2010
49. Soliloquy 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Francis Ledwidge


When I was young I had a care
Lest I should cheat me of my share
Of that which makes it sweet to strive
For life, and dying still survive,
A name in sunshine written higher
Than lark or poet dare aspire.

But I grew weary doing well.
Besides, 'twas sweeter in that hell,
Down with the loud banditti people
Who robbed the orchards, climbed the steeple
For jackdaws' eyes and made the cock
Crow ere 'twas daylight on the clock.
I was so very bad the neighbours
Spoke of me at their daily labours.

And now I'm drinking wine in France,
The helpless ...

Read the full of Soliloquy

The Shadow People

Old lame Bridget doesn't hear
Fairy music in the grass
When the gloaming's on the mere
And the shadow people pass:
Never hears their slow grey feet
Coming from the village street
Just beyond the parson's wall,
Where the clover globes are sweet
And the mushroom's parasol

[Report Error]