As the moon rose above the far hills in the night
and the forest lay quiet and still.
There arose such a clatter, a fine wondrous sight,
as fine fairies had come to their hill.
With fierce horses at canter, they pranced and they sang
as returning to fair Tír na nÓg.
With sweet pipers a piping, they leapt and they sprang
with their voices raised up in sweet song.
I was drawn to this spectacle, I had no chance,
and was lost to this world you see.
For this charming young maiden had asked me to dance,
and the world now lost sight of me.
Now for three hundred years I lived as favored mate,
never aging, I lived a long life.
While Queen Maeve, iron fisted ruled over her court,
that fair maiden I took as my wife.
As for me I remain in this magical place,
I endure, never more can I leave.
And if you should encounter this magical race,
surely then could you only believe.
© 2022 Henry Sampson
Can be sung to the tune of …