Page:The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge, 1919.djvu/87

Rh Under the flowers I loved, the passers-by

Shall scowl at me as one whose soul is lost.

But a soft peace came to me when the West

Shut its red door and a thin streak of moon

Was twisted on the twilight's dusky breast.

It wrapped me up as sometimes a sweet tune

Heard for the first time wraps the scenes around,

That we may have their memories when some hand

Strikes it in other times and hopes unbound

Rising see clear the everlasting land.