Page:The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge, 1919.djvu/88

 BEFORE THE TEARS

looked as sad as an eclipséd moon

Above the sheaves of harvest, and there lay

A light lisp on your tongue, and very soon

The petals of your deep blush fell away;

White smiles that come with an uneasy grace

From inner sorrow crossed your forehead fair,

When the wind passing took your scattered hair

And flung it like a brown shower in my face.

Tear-fringéd winds that fill the heart's low sighs

And never break upon the bosom's pain, 82