The Find

I took a reed and blew a tune,

And sweet it was and very

To be about a little

That only few hold dear.

Three times the cuckoo named himself,

But nothing heard him on the hill,

Where I was piping like an

The air was very still.'Twas all about a little thingI made a mystery of sound,

I found it in a fairy

Upon a fairy mound.

This poem taken from "Last Songs" by Francis Ledwidge,

Published by Herbert Jenkins,

London 1918 [page 63-64]Poem Dated: June 2nd, 1917.

Words and spelling verified JS