The Harp of Aengus

    Edain came out of Midhirs hill, and lay

    Beside young Aengus in ower of glass,

    ime is drowned in odour-laden winds

    And Druid moons, and murmuring of boughs,

    And sleepy boughs, and boughs where apples made

    Of opal and rue

    Arings,

    S  of his long hair,

    Because her hands had been made wild by love.

    o a fly,

    h Druid apple-wood

    t s know ;

    And from t ched over none

    But faithful lovers.