When I play on my fiddle in Dooney, Folk dance like a wave of the sea.

Had I the heavens' embroidered cloths, Enwrought with the golden and silver light, The blue and the dim and the dark cloths Of night and light and half-light, …

I have heard the pigeons of the Seven Woods Make their faint thunder, and the garden bees Hum in the lime-tree flowers; and put away The unavailing outcries an…

I will find out where she has gone, And kiss her lips and take her hands; And walk among long dappled grass, And pluck till time and times are done The silver …

I see the Flowers free, And a little bird singing on a tree. It sings to me the whole day long, And I love to hear it's pretty song.

The three-toed tree-toad Sings his sweet ode To the moon; The funny bunny And his honey Trip in tune.

Bonfires dot the rolling hillsides Figures dance around and around To drums that pulse out echoes of darkness And moving to the pagan sound.