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.