Page:The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge, 1919.djvu/242

236 No! it cannot be; the soul you

Sigh with craves nor begs of us.

From such heights a poet stole you

From a wing of Pegasus.

You have been where gods were sleeping

In the dawn of new creations,

Ere they woke to woman's weeping

At the broken thrones of nations.

You have seen this old world shattered

By old gods it disappointed,

Lying up in darkness, battered

By wild comets, unanointed.

But for Beauty unmolested

Have you still the sighing olden?

I know mountains heather-crested,

Waters white, and waters golden.