A Cradle Song
The Danann children laugh, in cradles of wrought gold,And clap their hands together, and half close their eyes,For they will ride the North when the ger-eagle flies,With heavy whitening wings, and a heart fallen cold:I kiss my wailing child and press it to my breast,And hear the narrow graves calling my child and me.Desolate winds that cry over the wandering sea;Desolate winds that hover in the flaming West;Desolate winds that beat the doors of Heaven, and beatThe doors of Hell and blow there many a whimpering ghost;O heart the winds have shaken; the unappeasable hostIs comelier than candles before Maurya's feet.
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