It's a lonely road through bogland to the lake at Carrowmore, And a sleeper there lies dreaming where the water laps the shore; Though the moth-wings of the twilight in their purples are unfurled, Yet his sleep is filled with music by the masters of the world.
There's a hand is white as silver that is fondling with his hair: There are glimmering feet of sunshine that are dancing by him there: And half-open lips of faery that were dyed a faery red In their revels where the Hazel Tree its holy clusters shed.
"Come away," the red lips whisper, "all the world is weary now; 'Tis the twilight of the ages and it's time to quit the plough. Oh, the very sunlight's weary ere it lightens up the dew, And its gold is changed and faded before it falls to you.
"Though your colleen's heart be tender, a tenderer heart is near. What's the starlight in her glances when the stars are shining clear? Who would kiss the fading shadow when the flower-face glows above? 'Tis the Beauty of all Beauty that is calling for your love."
Oh, the great gates of the mountain have opened once again, And the sound of song and dancing falls upon the ears of men, And the Land of Youth lies gleaming flushed with rainbow light and mirth, And the old enchantment lingers in the honey-heart of earth.
I will not follow you, my bird, I will not follow you. I would not breathe a word, my bird, To bring thee here anew.
I love the free in thee, my bird, The lure of freedom drew; The light you fly toward, my bird, I fly with thee unto.
And there we yet will meet, my bird, Though far I go from you, Where in the light outpoured, my bird, Are love and freedom too.
A laughter in the diamond air, a music in the trembling grass; And one by one the words of light as joydrops through my being pass: "I am the sunlight in the heart, the silver moon-glow in the mind; My laughter runs and ripples through the wavy tresses of the wind. I am the fire upon the hills, the dancing flame that leads afar Each burning hearted wanderer, and I the dear and homeward star. A myriad lovers died for me, and in their latest yielded breath I woke in glory giving them immortal life though touched by death. They knew me from the dawn of time: if Hermes beats his rainbow wings, If Angus shakes his locks of light, or golden-haired Apollo sings, It matters not the name, the land: my joy in all the Gods abides: Even in the cricket in the grass some dimness of me smiles and hides. For joy of me the daystar glows, and in delight and wild desire The peacock twilight rays aloft its plumes and blooms of shadowy fire, Where in the vastness too I burn through summer nights and ages long, And with the fiery-footed watchers shake in myriad dance and song."