At Currabwee

Every night at Currabwee

Little men with leather hats

Mend the boots of Faery

From the tough wings of the bats.

So my mother told to me,

And she is wise you will agree. .

Louder than a cricket's wing

All night long their hammer's glee

Times the merry songs they sing

Of Ireland glorious and free.

So I heard Joseph Plunkett say,

You know he heard them but last May.

And when the night is very cold

They warm their hands against the light

Of stars that make the waters gold

Where they are labouring all the night.

So Pearse said, and he knew the truth,

Among the stars he spent his youth.

And I, myself, have often heard

Their singing as the stars went by,

For am I not of those who reared

The banner of old Ireland high,

From Dublin town to Turkey's shores,

And where the Vardar loudly roars?

Poem dated: December, 1916.This poem taken from "Last Songs" by Francis Ledwidge, Published by Herbert Jenkins, London 1918 page 36-37checked and verified JSNotesCurrabwee -- Joseph Plunkett -- Pearse -- last May (1915) -- Vardar --