The Harp of Aengus
That she among her winds might know he wept;
And from that hour he has watched over none
And Druid moo
九-九-藏-书-网ns, and murmuring of boughs,
Sweet with all music, out of his long hair,
Because her hands ha九*九*藏*书*网d been made wild by love.
Of opal and ruhy and pale chrysolite
Edain came out of Midhirs hill, 藏书网and lay
Beside young Aengus in his tower of glass,
Awake unsleeping fires; and wove seven strings,
When 九-九-藏-书-网Midhirs wife had changed her to a fly,
And sleepy boughs, and boughs where apples made
He made a harp with D九九藏书ruid apple-wood
But faithful lovers.
Where time is drowned in odour-laden winds
The Harp of Aengus