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The Lanawn Shee
(Belgium, July 1917)

Powdered and perfumed the full bee
Winged heavily across the clover,
And where the hills were dim with dew,
Purple and blue the west leaned over.

A willow spray dipped in the stream,
Moving a gleam of silver ringing,
And by a finny creek a maid
Filled all the shade with softest singing.

Listening, my heart and soul at strife,
On the edge of life I seemed to hover,
For I knew my love had come at last,
That my joy was past and my gladness over.

I tiptoed gently up and stooped
Above her looped and shining tresses,
And asked her of her kin and name,
And why she came from fairy places.

( She told me of a sunny coast )

By Francis Ledwidge

[Francis Edward Ledwidge was killed in action July 31, 1917, on the opening day of the Battle of Passchendaele.]

Originally posted by duathir at Francis Ledwidge, 'The Lanawn Shee'