I heard the Poor Old Woman say: <br />"At break of day the fowler came, <br />And took my blackbirds from their songs <br />Who loved me well thro' shame and blame <br /> <br />No more from lovely distances <br />Their songs shall bless me mile by mile, <br />Nor to white Ashbourne call me down <br />To wear my crown another while. <br /> <br />With bended flowers the angels mark <br />For the skylark the place they lie, <br />From there its little family <br />Shall dip their wings first in the sky. <br /> <br />And when the first suprise of flight <br />Sweet songs excite, from the far dawn <br />Shall there come blackbirds loud with love, <br />Sweet echoesmof the singers gone. <br /> <br />But in the lovely hush of eve <br />Weeping I grieve the silent bills" <br />I heard the Poor Old Woman say <br />In Derry of the little hills.<br /><br />Francis Ledwidge<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/lament-for-the-poets-1916/
