Page:The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge, 1919.djvu/113

Rh My cowslips ring you welcome to the land

Your muse brings honour to in many a tongue,

Not only that I long to clasp your hand,

But that you're missed by poets who have sung

And viewed with doubt the music of their verse

All the long winter, for you love to bring

The true note in and say the wise thing terse,

And show what birds go lame upon a wing,

And where the weeds among the flowers do spring.