HOME A burst of sudden wings at dawn, Faint voices in a dreamy noon, Evenings of mist and murmurings, And night with rainbows of the moon. And through these things a wood-way dim, And waters dim, and slow sheep seen On uphill paths that wind away Through summer sounds and harvest green. This is a song a robin sang This morning on a broken tree, It was about the little fields That call across the world to me. -- Francis Ledwidge (1891-1917) from Co. Meath, killed in the First World War and commemorated every year by the Inchicore Ledwidge Society.