Lady fair, have we not
In our lives elsewhere ?
Darkling in my mind
Faint fair faces
Memory's old
To what was true and fair.
Long of memory is Regret,
But what Regret has taken
Through my memory's silences ?
Lo !
I turn it to the light.'Twas but a pleasure in distress,
Too faint and far off for redress.
But some light glancing in your
And in the liquid of your
Seem to murmur old
In our lives elsewhere.
Have we not met.
Lady fair ?
Poem dated:
Londonderry,
October 27th, 1916.
This poem taken from "Last Songs" by Francis Ledwidge,
Published by Herbert Jenkins,
London 1918 page 30-31checked and verified JS
