WHEN I came back to Ireland the leaves on the tree, The birds on the branches would keep reminding me, With, @3don't you remember?@1 and @3could you forget?@1 Till I'm living and walking in the old times yet. The wind from the mountains it blows fresh and strong; @3Ah, don't you remember?@1 is still the wind's song. With @3don't you remember?@1 and @3could you forget?@1 As I went out walking 'twas the dead that I met. There's a road runs to Wicklow: it goes past the door. The dust of it's holy for feet it once bore. They've all travelled Westward where the sun doesn't set, @3Ah, don't you remember?@1 and @3could you forget?@1 The blackbird he's mocking from the apple-bough: @3Sure, why would you trouble to be coming now When them that sore missed you are past fear and fret? Ah, don't you remember?@1 and @3could you forget?@1 There's not a flower in Ireland, there isn't a hill, Nor yet a breath of the Four Winds but keeps reminding still, Till my poor heart is troubled and my eyes are wet For @3don't you remember?@1 and @3could you forget?@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SONNET OF HIS LADY IN HEAVEN by JACOPO DA LENTINO SONNET: 97 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE BY THE SALPETRIERE by THOMAS ASHE IN MEMORY OF DOCTOR DONNE by R. B. BALLADE OF THE FOREST HAUNTERS by THEODORE FAULLAIN DE BANVILLE |