Literature Network » J. M. Synge » To the Oaks of Glencree

To the Oaks of Glencree

My arms are round you, and I lean
Against you, while the lark
Sings over us, and golden lights, and green
Shadows are on your bark.

There'll come a season when you'll stretch
Black boards to cover me;
Then in Mount Jerome I will lie, poor wretch,
With worms eternally.

Literature Network » J. M. Synge » To the Oaks of Glencree