Grace Hazard Conkling

(7 February 1878 - 15 November 1958 / New York City, New York)

Francis Ledwidge - Poem by Grace Hazard Conkling

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(Killed in action July 31, 1917)

Nevermore singing
Will you go now,
Wearing wild moonlight
On your brow.
The moon's white mood
In your silver mind
Is all forgotten.
Words of wind
From off the hedgerow
After rain,
You do not hear them;
They are vain.
There is a linnet
Craves a song,
And you returning
Before long.
Now who will tell her,
Who can say
On what great errand
You are away?
You whose kindred
Were hills of Meath,
Who sang the lane-rose
From her sheath,
What voice will cry them
The grief at dawn
Or say to the blackbird
You are gone?


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Read poems about / on: july, grief, silver, rose, moon, rain, song, wind



Poem Submitted: Saturday, January 4, 2003



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