I see the wolves gathered on the hill
And the carrion birds that fly
Etched against the (witching) moon…
I was a string in Apollo's lyre
I was the sword in a warrior's hand
I was the crown on an emperor's brow
I was the seal on a sorcerer's heart…
I saw the glory of Atlantis fall-the jeweled spires that would gleam no more…
I saw the grandeur that once was Greece-its crumbling walls I now call my home…
I see a woman crying on my mound-she has been lover and homeland to me:
Alas! I know I will not see her again-the kingdom of the shades is my home…
Where the Sidhe play mournful tunes
Where the sea is black, without a shore
Where meadows are strewn with ash