Ciaran, the master of horses and lands, Once had no more than the horn on his hands.
But Ciaran is rich now, and Ciaran is great, And rides with the air of a squire of estate.
O Christ! and to see the man up on the back Of a thoroughbred stallion, a bay or a black!
There's not a horsebreeder from Banna to Laoi Can handle the snaffle so pretty as he!
And Ciaran, for all, has the wit of a child, A heart just as soft, and an eye just as mild.
No maker of ballads puts curse at his door: He handsels the singer, and harbours the poor.
For Ciaran, the master of horses and lands, Once had no more than the horn on his hands.
The moon climbs and climbs. Till it is no bigger Than a moon-penny. Darkness and the hills lie together As in a bed. Sleeping lovers.
In the youth of summer The hills of Cualann Are two golden horns, Two breasts of childing, Two tents of light.
In the age of winter They are two rusted swords, Two waves of darkness. Two moons of ice.
Blessed the Hand That set a new moon on the hill for me, And hung the night with stars — With white festoons of stars — Looped from the corners of the world.
The sheep beat a track over the mountain, And men, sheep-like, follow them. Who is there with heart enough To beat a track for himself?
Not the strongest. Not the wisest. Not the most proud.
A line's a speech; So here's a line To say this pedlar's pack Of mine Is not a book-- But a journey thro' Mountainy places, Ever in view Of the sea and the fields, With the rough wind Blowing over the leagues Behind!
Violet mystery, Ringleted gold, Whiteness of whiteness, Wherefore so cold?
Silent you sit there-- Spirit and mould-- Darkening the dream That must never be told!
If by chance you look for me Perhaps you'll not me find, For I'll be in my castle-- Enquire for Reynardine!
Sun and dark he courted me-- His eyes were red as wine: He took me for his leman, Did my sweet Reynardine.
Sun and dark the gay horn blows, The beagles run like wind: They know not where he harbours, The fairy Reynardine.
If by chance you look for me Perhaps you'll not me find, For I'll be in my castle-- Enquire for Reynardine!
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