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.