The Host of the Air

    The wild duck and the drake

    From the tall and the tufted reeds

    Of the drear Hart Lake.

    And he saw how the reeds grew dark

    At the coming of night-tide，

    And dreamed of the long dim hair

    Of Bridget his bride.

    He heard while he sang and dreamed

    A piper piping away，

    And never was piping so sad，

    And never was piping so gay.

    And he saw young men and young girls

    Who danced on a level place，

    And Bridget his bride among them，

    With a sad and a gay face.

    The dancers crowded about him

    And many a sweet thing said，

    And a young man brought him red wine

    And a young girl white bread.

    But Bridget drew him by the sleeve

    Away from the merry bands，

    To old men playing at cards

    With a twinkling of ancient hands.

    The bread and the wine had a doom，

    For these were the host of the air；

    He sat and played in a dream

    Of her long dim hair.

    He played with the merry old men

    And thought not of evil chance，

    Until one bore Bridget his bride

    Away from the merry dance.

    He bore her away in his arms，

    The handsomest young man there，

    And his neck and his breast and his arms

    Were drowned in her long dim hair.

    O‘Driscoll scattered the cards

    And out of his dream awoke：

    Old men and young men and young girls

    Were gone like a drifting smoke；

    But he heard high up in the air

    A piper piping away，

    And never was piping so sad，

    And never was piping so gay.