Cúcídh Mac Cuagh Biography

Ay, the lake so beautiful in the early morning light,
A dreamlike haze ‘twixt the faery world and mere mortal sight.
From the rising mist o’the lake comes the mysteries it beholds,
From bog to bank; ice-sheets keep it cold.
...

-In the midst and- The mist,
Came it from the west,
O’er heads of gods and goddesses,
Whom are now bless’d.
...

In the end ‘twas but a jest,
Jesting as lovers do.
But from the start I lov’d thee best,
Bath’d in morning dew.
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This plain on which we stand is but a Stage of Dreams;
We play out aspiring thoughts to an audience that seems
Captured, dumb without an aside or candid soliloquy,
A distracted thought, in full mind, that will away again from me!
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Nymph, O lady I desire
In Oisin’s eyes I see you there,
Akin with faery mien and enchantments,
Magically lit tresses of gold,
...