Dm                     C                Dm 
I cried when the moon was murmuring to the birds:                       
C                     Dm 
"Let peewit call and curlew cry where they will,    
Gm                      F                   C
I long for your merry and tender and pitiful words,                     
Gm                        B 
For the roads are unending, and there is no place to my mind."

A            E        F#m             C#m 
I have no happiness in dreaming of Brycelinde,         
F#m                 E     Am          G 
Nor Avalon the grass-green hollow, nor Joyous Isle,                  
C                   G         E    Am 
Where one found Lancelot crazed and hid him for a while;     
G           F                                   E 
Nor Ulad, when Naoise had thrown his sail upon the wind;

Hm     Hm/a     G          D                 A 
The Danaan children laugh, in cradles of wrought gold,       
Hm         Hm/a     G           D               A 
And clap their hands together, and half close their eyes,                
Hm     Hm/a  C              Em         A 
For they will ride the   North when the ger-eagle flies,              
Hm   Hm/a  G            F#    G      F# 
With heavy whitening wings, and a heart fallen cold

Em                    G 
The leaves was long, the grass was green,      
A              Em       D 
The hemlock-umbels tall and fair,     
C               D         G 
And in the glade a light was seen      
C                    D 
Of stars in shadow shimmering.

Am              F 
I went out to the hazel wood,    
G               Am 
Because a fire was in my head,                       
F 
And cut and peeled a hazel wand,      
G              Am 
And hooked a berry to a thread;

G           D           C          G      D 
Sing all ye joyful, now sing all together?      
G              D            C             G 
The wind's in the free-top, the wind's in the heather;       
Am           Em          Am          D 
The stars are in blossom, the moon is in flower,       
C                        D            G 
And bright are the windows of Night in her tower.

Em              G          Am 
The host is riding from Knocknarea     
C                   D          Em 
And over the grave of Clooth-na-Bare;                  
G           Am 
Caoilte tossing his burning hair,      
C              D          Em 
And Niamh calling Away, come away.