Page:The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge, 1919.djvu/163

 TO A DISTANT ONE

wild by-ways I come to you, my love,

Nor ask of those I meet the surest way,

What way I turn I cannot go astray

And miss you in my life. Though Fate may prove

A tardy guide she will not make delay

Leading me through strange seas and distant lands,

I'm coming still, though slowly, to your hands.

We'll meet one day.

There is so much to do, so little done,

In my life's space that I perforce did leave

Love at the moonlit trysting-place to grieve

Till fame and other little things were won. 157