The host is riding from Knocknarea
And over the grave of Clooth-na-Bare;
Caoilte tossing his burning hair,
And Niamh calling Away, come away:
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I adore this piece. The old lore of nations enchant the land, it gives us a greater sense of being. The golden cycle of life and eternity. Those that came before us shared the same emotion, and had the same hearts. The idealism of the mind, and romance just calls us to us; 'Away, come away.'
This is my favourite WB poem at the moment, have been reading it in my collections book for days now, glad to see it here. I could read it over and over forever.