My Fidil is Singing
My fidil is singing
Into the air;
The wind is stirring,
The moon is fair.
A shadow wanders
Along the road;
It stops to listen,
And drops its load.
Dreams for a space
Upon the moon,
Then passes, humming
My mountain tune.
Joseph Campbell
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Night, and I Travelling
Night, and I travelling.
An open door by the wayside,
Throwing out a shaft of warm yellow light.
A whiff of peat-smoke;
A gleam of delf on the dresser within;
A woman's voice crooning, as if to a child.
I pass on into the darkness.
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