In France
The silence of maternal hills
Is round me in my evening dreams ;
And round me music-making bills
And mingling waves of pastoral streams.
Whatever way I turn I find
The path is old unto me still.
The hills of home are in my mind,
And there I wander as I will.
This poem taken from "Last Songs" by Francis Ledwidge, Published by Herbert Jenkins, London 1918 [page 51]Poem Dated: February 3rd, 1917.Words and spelling verified JS
