As I was climbing Ardan Mór
From the shore of Sheelin lake,
I met the herons coming down
Before the water's wake.
And they were talking in their flight
Of dreamy ways the herons go
When all the hills are withered up
Nor any waters flow.
Ardan Mór
Francis Ledwidge
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Poem topics: water, shore, flight, Print This Poem , Rhyme Scheme
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