If
I were young as once I was, and dreams
and death more distant then,
I
wouldn't split my soul in two, and keep
half in the world of men,
So
half of me would stay at home, and
strive for Faërie in vain,
While
all the while my soul would stroll up
narrow path, down crooked lane,
And
there would meet a fairy lass and
smile and bow with kisses three,
She'd
pluck wild eagles from the air and
nail me to a lightning tree
And
if my heart would run from her or
flee from her, be gone from her,
She’d
wrap it in a nest of stars and then
she'd take it on with her
Until
one day she'd tire of it, all bored
with it and done with it
She'd
leave it by a burning brook, and off
brown boys would run with it.
They'd
take it and have fun with it and
stretch it long and cruel and thin,
They'd
slice it into four and then they'd
string with it a violin.
And
every day and every night they'd
play upon my heart a song
So
plaintive and so wild and strange that
all who heard it danced along
And
sang and whirled and sank and trod and
skipped and slipped and reeled and rolled
Until,
with eyes as bright as coals, they'd
crumble into wheels of gold....
But
I am young no longer now; for sixty
years my heart's been gone
To
play its dreadful music there, beyond
the valley of the sun.
I
watch with envious eyes and mind, the
single–souled, who dare not feel
The
wind that blows beyond the moon,
who do not hear the Fairy Reel.
If
you don't hear the Fairy Reel, they will
not pause to steal your breath.
When
I was young I was a fool. So wrap
me up in dreams and death.