Page:The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge, 1919.djvu/279

 SPRING

more the lark with song and speed

Cleaves through the dawn, his hurried bars

Fall, like the flute of Ganymede

Twirling and whistling from the stars.

The primrose and the daffodil

Surprise the valleys, and wild thyme

Is sweet on every little hill,

When lambs come down at folding time.

In every wild place now is heard

The magpie's noisy house, and through

The mingled tunes of many a bird

The ruffled wood-dove's gentle coo.

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