He played with the merry old men
Were gone like a drifting smoke;
But he heard high up in the air
ODriscoll scattered the cards
And a young man brought him red wine
Were drowned in her long dim hair.
And Bridget his bride among them,
And dreamed of the long dim hair
Away from the merry bands,
Of her long dim hair.
The handsomest young man there,
And out of his dream awoke:
And never was piping so gay.
The Host Of The Air
He bore her away in his atms,
Who danced on a level place,
Of the drear Hart Lake.
And a young girl white bread.
Until one boreBridget his bride
And never was piping so sad,
For these were the host of the air;
At the coming of night-tide,
The bread and the wine had a doom,
With a sad and a gay face.
And he saw how the reeds grew dark
But Bridget drew him by the sleeve
He heard while he sang and dreamed
And never was piping so sad,
From the tall and the tufted reeds
To old men playing at cards
The wild duck and the drake
And many a sweet thing said,
Away from the merry dance.
And he saw youngmen and young girls
The dancers crowded about him
Old men and young men and young girls
ODRISCOLL drove with a song
A piper piping away,
With a twinkling of ancient hands.
He sat and played in a dream
And his neck and his breast and his arms
And thought not of evil chance,
A piper piping away,
And never was piping so gay.
Of Bridget his bride.
