WILD WINGS OVER ERNE

 

 (unfinished)

 

 

In the soft Irish gloaming when wild birds are homing

Along the dim water they wheel to the West

And calling and crying as onward they’re flying

Wild wings over Erne fly home to their rest.

 

So hearts that are dreaming of Erne’s soft gleaming

Afar from the home shore as fades the last light

In longing and yearning are westward returning

Wild wings over Erne fly home in the night

 

 


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