The Fairy Music

There's many feet on the moor to-night, and they fall so light as they turn and pass, 
So light and true that they shake no dew from the featherfew and the Hungry grass. 
I drank no sup and I broke no crumb of their food, but dumb at their feast sat I, 
For their dancing feet and their piping sweet, now I sit and greet till I'm like to die. 

Oh kind, kind folk, to the words you spoke I shut my ears and I would not hear, 
And now all day what my own kin say falls sad and strange on my careless ear — 
For I'm listening, listening, all day long to a fairy song that is blown to me, 
Over the broom and the canna's bloom, and I know the doom of the Ceol-Sidhe. 

I take no care now for bee or bird, for a voice I've heard that is sweeter yet, 
My wheel stands idle: at death or bridal apart I stand and my prayers forget. 
When Ulick speaks of my wild-rose cheeks, and his kind love seeks out my heart that's cold, 
I take no care though he speaks me fair for the new love casts out the love that's old. 

I take no care for the blessed prayer, for my mother's hand or my mother's call. 
There ever rings in my ear, and sings, a voice more dear and more sweet than all. 
Cold, cold's my breast, and broke's my rest, and O it's blest to be dead I'd be, 
Held safe and fast from the fairy blast, and deaf at last to the Ceol-Sidhe!