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Show Anniversary. The common's purple with heather, Heather and ling. Dear, when we were together, Life was a pleasant thing. Gathered-the hay and the clover, Ripe is the wheat, Dear, in the days that are over The sad Autumn was sweet. I take the path by the coppice Dark with its trees. Other fields, other poppies, v Rise and wither in these. Other trees, other meadows, Call me to come Back to the long hill-shadows And the kind winds of home. Sure, why would I be coming? There is such change. Dear, in the dew and the gloaming, Your fields are they not strange? Now for your dear sake only Coppice and brake. The fields of the Autumn are lonely, Lonely and sad for your sake. Katherine Tynan, in the Irish Monthly. |