The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge/Songs of the Fields/Evening in February

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1995431The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge — Evening in February1919Francis Ledwidge

EVENING IN FEBRUARY

The windy evening drops a grey
Old eyelid down across the sun,
The last crow leaves the ploughman's way,
And happy lambs make no more fun.


Wild parsley buds beside my feet,
A doubtful thrush makes hurried tune,
The steeple in the village street
Doth seem to pierce the twilight moon.


I hear and see those changing charms,
For all—my thoughts are fixed upon
The hurry and the loud alarms
Before the fall of Babylon.