Lament for Thomas Mc Donagh

Lament for Thomas Mc Donagh ………..Francis Ledwidge

He shall not hear the bittern cry

In the wild sky, where he is lain

Nor voices of the sweeter birds,

Above the wailing of the rain

Nor shall he know when loud March blows

Thro’ slanting snows her fanfare shrill,

Blowing to flame the golden cup

Of many an upset daffidil

But when the Dark Cow leaves the moor

And pastures poor with greedy weeds

Perhaps he’ll hear her low at morn

Lifting her horn in pleasant meads