Here you will find thePoemSpringof poet Francis Ledwidge
Once 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. Sweet by the river's noisy brink The water-lily bursts her crown, The kingfisher comes down to drink Like rainbow jewels falling down. And when the blue and grey entwine The daisy shuts her golden eye, And peace wraps all those hills of mine Safe in my dearest memory.
