Page:The Complete Poems of Francis Ledwidge, 1919.djvu/222

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
216
THE LURE

Yet something calls me with no voice
And wakes sweet echoes in my mind;
In the fair country of my choice
Nor Peace nor Love again I find,
Nor anything of rest I know
When south-east winds are blowing low.