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| DREAM-FAIR, besides dream waters, it stands alone: | |
| A winged thought of Lugh made its corner stone: | |
| A desire of his heart raised its walls on high, | |
| And set its crystal windows to flaunt the sky. | |
| |
| Its doors of the white bronze are many and bright, | 5 |
| With wonderous carven pillars for his Love’s delight, | |
| And its roof of the blue wings, the speckled red, | |
| Is a flaming arc of beauty above her head. | |
| |
| Like a mountain through mist Lugh towers high, | |
| The fiery-forked lightning is the glance of his eye, | 10 |
| His countenance is noble as the Sun-god’s face— | |
| The proudest chieftain he of a proud De Danaan race. | |
| |
| He bides there in peace now, his wars are all done— | |
| He gave his hand to Balor when the death gate was won, | |
| And for the strife-scarred heroes who wander in the shade, | 15 |
| His door lieth open, and the rich feast is laid. | |
| |
| He hath no vexing memory of blood in slanting rain, | |
| Of green spears in hedges on a battle plain; | |
| But through the haunted quiet his Love’s silver words | |
| Blow round him swift as wing-beats of enchanted birds. | 20 |
| |
| A grey haunted wind is blowing in the hall, | |
| And stirring through the shadowy spears upon the wall, | |
| The drinking-horn goes round from shadowy lip to lip— | |
| And about the golden methers shadowy fingers slip. | |
| |
| The Star of Beauty, she who queens it there; | 25 |
| Diademed, and wondrous long, her yellows hair. | |
| Her eyes are twin-moons in a rose-sweet face, | |
| And the fragrance of her presence fills all the place. | |
| |
| He plays for her pleasure on his harp’s gold wire | |
| The laughter-tune that leaps along in trills of fire; | 30 |
| She hears the dancing feet of Sidhe where a white moon gleams, | |
| And all her world is joy in the House of Dreams. | |
| |
| He plays for her soothing the Slumber-song: | |
| Fine and faint as any dream it glides along: | |
| She sleeps until the magic of his kiss shall rouse; | 35 |
| And all her world is quiet in the Shadow-house. | |
| |
| His days glide to night, and his nights glide to day: | |
| With circling of the amber mead, and feasting gay; | |
| In the yellow of her hair his dreams lie curled, | |
| And her arms make the rim of his rainbow world. | 40 |
