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Francis Ledwidge

(19 August 1887 – 31 July 1917 / Janeville, Slane)

A Soldier's Grave


Then in the lull of midnight, gentle arms
Lifted him slowly down the slopes of death
Lest he should hear again the mad alarms
Of battle, dying moans, and painful breath.

And where the earth was soft for flowers we made
A grave for him that he might better rest.
So, Spring shall come and leave it seet arrayed,
And there the lark shall turn her dewy nest

Submitted: Friday, April 16, 2010

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  • Bronze Star - 6,774 Points * Sunprincess * (5/27/2014 9:15:00 AM)

    ..............very nicely written....may all of the fallen soldiers rest in peace....a wonderful masterpiece... (Report) Reply

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