THE HOSTING OF THE SIDHE

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    <strong>THE HOSTING OF THE SIDHE</strong>

    The host is riding from Knoarea藏书网,

    And over the grave of Clooth-na-bare;

    Caolte tossing his <bdo>?99liｂ?</bd hair,

    And Niamh calling, “Away, e away;

    Empty your heart of its mortal dream.

    The winds awaken, the leaves whirl round,

    Our cheeks are pale, our hair is unbound,

    Our breasts are heaving, our eyes are a-gleam,

    Our></a> arms are waving, our lips are apart,

    And if any gaze on our rushing band,

    We e between him and the deed of his hand,<s>..</s>

    We e between him and the hope of his heart.”

    The host is rushing ‘twixt night and day;

    And where is there hope or deed as fair?

    Caolte tossing his burning hair,

    And Niamh calling, “Away, e away.”

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