THE WIND ON THE HILLS
Go not to the hills of Erinn
When the night winds are about,
Put up your bar and shutter,
And so keep the danger out.
For the good-folk whirl within it,
And they pull you by the hand,
And they push you on the shoulder,
Till you move to their command.
And lo ! you have forgotten
What you have known of tears.
And you will not remember
That the world goes full of years;
A year there is a lifetime,
And a second but a day,
And an older world will meet you
Each morn you come away.
Your wife grows old with weeping,
And your children one by one
Grow grey with nights of watching.
Before your dance is done.
And it will chance some morning
You will come home no more;
Your wife sees but a withered leaf
In the wind about the door.
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