Youth

She paved the way with perfume sweet

Of flowers that moved like winds alight,

And never weary grew my feet

Wandering through[the spring's delight.

She dropped her sweet fife to her lips

And lured me with her melodies,

To where the great big wandering ships

Put out into the peaceful seas.

But when the year grew chill and brown,

And all the wings of Summer flown,

Within the tumult of a town

She left me to grow old alone.

This poem taken from "Last Songs" by Francis Ledwidge, Published by Herbert Jenkins, London 1918 page 22-23checked and verified JSprobable date of writing 1916