Share:
  Guess poet | Poets | Poets timeline | Isles | Contacts

Francis Ledwidge - The Dead KingsFrancis Ledwidge - The Dead Kings
Work rating: Low


All the dead kings came to me At Rosnaree, where I was dreaming. A few stars glimmered through the morn, And down the thorn the dews were streaming. And every dead king had a story Of ancient glory, sweetly told. It was too early for the lark, But the starry dark had tints of gold. I listened to the sorrows three Of that Eire passed into song. A cock crowed near a hazel croft, And up aloft dim larks winged strong. And I, too, told the kings a story Of later glory, her fourth sorrow: There was a sound like moving shields In high green fields and the lowland furrow. And one said : " We who yet are kings Have heard these things lamenting inly." Sweet music flowed from many a bill And on the hill the morn stood queenly. And one said : " Over is the singing, And bell bough ringing, whence we come ; With heavy hearts we`ll tread the shadows, In honey meadows birds are dumb." And one said : " Since the poets perished And all they cherished in the way, Their thoughts unsung, like petal showers Inflame the hours of blue and gray." And one said : " A loud tramp of men We`ll hear again at Rosnaree." A bomb burst near me where I lay. I woke, `twas day in Picardy.
Source

The script ran 0.001 seconds.