Page:The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge, 1919.djvu/57

 EVENING IN MAY

is nought tragic here, tho' night uplifts

A narrow curtain where the footlights burned,

But one long act where Love each bold heart sifts

And blushes in the dark, but has not spurned

The strong resolve of noon. The maiden's head

Is brown upon the shoulder of her youth,

Hearts are exchanged, long pent up words are said,

Blushes burn out at the long tale of truth.

The blackbird blows his yellow flute so strong,

And rolls away the notes in careless glee, 51