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
