I called you by sweet names by wood and linn, <br />You answered not because my voice was new, <br />And you were listening for the hounds of Finn <br />And the long hosts of Lugh. <br /> <br />And so, I came unto a windy height <br />And cried my sorrow, but you heard no wind, <br />For you were listening to small ships in flight, <br />And the wail on hills behind. <br /> <br /> <br />And then I left you, wandering the war <br />Armed with will, from distant goal to goal, <br />To find you at the last free as of yore, <br />Or die to save your soul. <br /> <br />And then you called to us from far and near <br />To bring your crown from out the deeps of time, <br />It is my grief your voice I couldn't hear <br />In such a distant clime.<br /><br />Francis Ledwidge<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/ireland-10/
