Page:In the Seven Woods, Yeats, 1903.djvu/36

 They unhook their heavy swords

From golden and silver boughs;

But all that are killed in battle

Awaken to life again;

It is lucky that their story

Is not known among men.

For O the strong farmers

That would let the spade lie,

For their hearts would be like a cup

That somebody had drunk dry.

The little fox he murmured,

'O what is the world's bane?'

The sun was laughing sweetly,

The moon plucked at my rein;

But the little red fox murmured

'O do not pluck at his rein,

He is riding to the townland

That is the world's bane.'

Michael will unhook his trumpet

From a bough overhead,

And blow a little noise

When the supper has been spread.

Gabriel will come from the water

With a fish tail, and talk

Of wonders that have happened 24