Fairies
Maiden-poet, come with
To the heaped up cairn of Maeve,
And there we'll dance a fairy
Upon a fairy's grave.
In and out among the trees,
Filling all the night with sound,
The morning, strung upon her star,
Shall chase us round and round.
What are we but fairies too,
Living but in dreams alone,
Or, at the most, but children still,
Innocent and overgrown ?
This poem taken from "Last Songs" by Francis Ledwidge,
Published by Herbert Jenkins,
London 1918 [page 54-55]Poem Dated: February 6th, 1917.
Words and spelling verified
TE Cairn of Maeve == Maeve was the warrior Queen of Connacht in Celtic mythology.
Her burial tomb / cairn is said to be in Knocknarea,
Ireland
Francis Ledwidge
Other author posts
Two Songs
I will come no more awhile, Song-time is over A fire is burning in my heart, I was ever a rover
In France
The silence of maternal Is round me in my evening dreams ; And round me music-making And mingling waves of pastoral streams
The Dead Kings
All the dead kings came to At Rosnaree, where I was dreaming A few stars glimmered through the morn, And down the thorn the dews were streaming
With Flowers
These have more language than my song, Take them and let them speak for me I whispered them a secret Down the green lanes of Allary