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Слушать(AI)The Little Children
Hunger points a bony
To the workhouse on the hill,
But the little children
While there's flowers to gather
For my sunny window sill.
In my hands I take their faces,
Smiling to my smiles they run.
Would that I could take their
Where the murky bye-ways
The benedictions of the
How they laugh and sing
Lightly on their secret way.
While I listen in my
Their laughter fills the windy
With gladness, youth and May.
This poem taken from "Last Songs" by Francis Ledwidge,
Published by Herbert Jenkins,
London 1918 page 24-25checked and verified
Probable date of writing 1916
Francis Ledwidge
Francis Edward Ledwidge (19 August 1887 – 31 July 1917) was an Irish war poet and soldier from County Meath.[1] Sometimes known as the "poet of
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