Page:Poems by Cushag.djvu/52

50 ::::While here and there,
 * And everywhere,
 * The gentle folk
 * Are well bespoke,
 * And room is left for them to ride
 * In safety on the gleaming tide.
 * And then a puff
 * Of wind comes by,
 * “Oie-vie, oie-vie!” the fairies cry.

And all around the sea is bare, And not a boat is anywhere!

And that’s the time the men would find
 * Good luck with all the nets they cast,

And rowing slow with loaded store,
 * Be home before the night was past.

But other times the fish was scarce,
 * And some would stay and some would go,

About the Sloc or further out
 * Or back to sleeping Dalby, row.

And sometimes only one alone
 * Would drift along the shadowy land,

And in the darkness quake to hear The Babe at Earey-Cushlin strand.