Remove Ads A E F#m C#mI have no happiness in dreaming of Brycelinde,
F#m E Am GNor Avalon the grass-green hollow, nor Joyous Isle,
C G E AmWhere one found Lancelot crazed and hid him for a while;
G F ENor Ulad, when Naoise had thrown his sail upon the wind;
Nor lands that seem to dim to be burdens on the heart:
Land-under-Wave, where out of the moon's light and the sun's
Seven old sisters wind the threads of the long-lived ones,
Land-of-the-Tower, where Aengus has thrown the gates apart,
And Wood-of-Wonders, where one kills an ox at dawn,
To find it when night falls laid on a golden bier.
Therein are many queens like Branwen and Guinevere;
And Niamh and Laban and Fand, who could change to an otter or fawn,
A E F#m C#mAnd the wood-woman, whose lover was changed to a blue-eyed hawk;
F#m E Am GAnd whether I go in my dreams by woodland, or dun, or shore,
C G E AmOr on the unpeopled waves with kings to pull at the oar,
F E Am EI hear the harp-string praise them, or hear their mournful talk.
Am F Am GBecause of something told under the famished horn
Cm G# Cm BOf the hunter's moon, that hung between the night and the day,
D# B G CmTo dream of women whose beauty was folded in dismay,
B G# G CEven in an old story, is a burden not to be borne.
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