The Fairy Well of Slemish - Cathal O’Byrne

Twas the grey of the evening when Shaun came over
The mountain's shoulder by Torloch's Tower,
Like clustered pearls lay the dew on the clover,
One pale star burned thro' that dew-grey hour.

He came to the Fairy Well of Slemish,
In the cool, green moss like a gem it lay;
And he thought of the girl without blame or blemish,
The dark, proud girl who had said him "Nay."

He stooped to drink of the sweet well-water;
To the moss grown stones he bent a knee.
"Oh, sweet as the kiss of a High King's Daughter,
Is the Well of Forgetfulness," said he.

"Oh, sweeter far than the sweet well water
Are the lips of Love," said a voice, and he
Looked up and beheld the High King's Daughter,
Of Tir-na-noge in the Realms of Shee.

"Drink three deep draughts," said the High King's Daughter,
"And the wish of your heart I can give," said she,
"Oh I have drunk deep of the sweet well-water,
And the wish of my heart is yourself," said he.

He kissed her lips, as the poppies scarlet,
He made her heart on his heart to lie,
While a rain of tears that one gold star let
Fall thro' the dusk down the opal sky.

Then away with them over the purple heather,
By dark fir-wood and by starlit brae;
Their silvery laughter ringing together
And nor sight nor sign of them since that day.

---

Cathal O’Byrne (1867 – 1957) Ireland
(also sometimes listed as Cathal O'Bryne)

Source: The Grey Feet of the Wind by Cathal O'Byrne, Frederick A. Stokes Company, 1917