Sing in their high and lonely melody.

Red Rose, proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days.

Come near, that no more blinded hy mans fate,

And heavy mortal hopes that toil and pass;

In all poor九-九-藏-書 foolish things that live a day,

Cuchulain battling with the bitter tide;

And thine own sadness, where of stars, grown old

Come near me, while I sing the ancient ways:

Red Rose,九-九-藏-書 proud Rose, sad Rose of all my days!

Come near; I would, before my time to go,

Come near, come near, come near - Ah, leave me still

But seek alone to hear the strange things sai九-九-藏-書d

The Druid, grey, wood-nurtured, quiet-eyed,

The field-mouse running by me in the grass,

Who cast round Fergus dreams, and ruin untold;

In dancing silver-sandalled on the sea,

The weak九_九_藏_書 worm hiding down in its small cave,

Lest I no more bear common things that crave;

Eternal beauty wandering on her way.

I find under the boughs of love and hate,

And learn to chaunt a tongue m九_九_藏_書en do not know.

A little space for the rose-breath to fill!

Sing of old Eire and the ancient ways:

By God to the bright hearts of those long dead,