Folkdance

Sing we now all of our joy,

Dance we all together

Through the rocky mountain cleft,

'mid the purple heather.

Merry our folk, with clasped hands

Our feet sink down like roots;

Morning wind is in our hair,

Night wind in our flutes.

'twixt day and night we hold our jig

'tween night and day our harrow

Our tune has crooked you at the knee,

Our music's in your marrow

Death may be, to hear our horn

Winding in an eyrie-glen:

No mortal foot may quit our floor,

Nor return again.

Unfettered dance, loosed of time,

In seeming hours pass

Evening dew turns morning mist

Our footprints in the grass

Traipsing came, full-flushed youth,

Whose light step earned our praise;

Trembling leave, pale old man -

Last night ye danced your days.

Dance we now, all of our joy,

Sing we all together

In some forgotten mountain cleft

Just here, or there, or never.