Page:The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge, 1919.djvu/44

 SPRING

dews drip roses on the meadows

Where the meek daisies dot the sward.

And Æolus whispers through the shadows,

"Behold the handmaid of the Lord!"

The golden news the skylark waketh

And 'thwart the heavens his flight is curled;

Attend ye as the first note breaketh

And chrism droppeth on the world.

The velvet dusk still haunts the stream

Where Pan makes music light and gay.

The mountain mist hath caught a beam

And slowly weeps itself away. 38