Running to Paradise (1996)
Under the Moon
! (W. B. Yeats)
> A E F#m D#m
I have no happiness in dreaming of Brycelinde,
> F#m E Am G
Nor Avalon the grass-green hollow, nor Joyous Isle,
> C G E Am
Where one found Lancelot crazed and hid him for a while;
> G F E
Nor Ulad, when Naoise had thrown his sail upon the wind;
Nor lands that seem to dim to be burdens on the heart:
Land-under-Wave, where out of the moon's light and the sun's
Seven old sisters wind the threads of the long-lived ones,
Land-of-the-Tower, where Aengus has thrown the gates apart,
And Wood-of-Wonders, where one kills an ox at dawn,
To find it when night falls laid on a golden bier.
Therein are many queens like Branwen and Guinevere;
And Niamh and Laban and Fand, who could change to an otter or fawn,
And the wood-woman, whose lover was changed to a blue-eyed hawk;
And whether I go in my dreams by woodland, or dun, or shore,
Or on the unpeopled waves with kings to pull at the oar,
> F E Am
I hear the harp-string praise them, or hear their mournful talk.
> E Am F Am G
Because of something told under the famished horn
> Cm Ab Cm B
Of the hunter's moon, that hung between the night and the day,
> Eb B G Cm
To dream of women whose beauty was folded in dismay,
> B Ab G C
Even in an old story, is a burden not to be borne.
-
> A E F#m C#m
I have no happiness in dreaming of Brycelinde,
> F#m E Am G
Nor Avalon the grass-green hollow, nor Joyous Isle,
> C G E Am
Where one found Lancelot crazed and hid him for a while;
> G F E
Nor Ulad, when Naoise had thrown his sail upon the wind;
Nor lands that seem to dim to be burdens on the heart:
Land-under-Wave, where out of the moon's light and the sun's
Seven old sisters wind the threads of the long-lived ones,
Land-of-the-Tower, where Aengus has thrown the gates apart,
And Wood-of-Wonders, where one kills an ox at dawn,
To find it when night falls laid on a golden bier.
Therein are many queens like Branwen and Guinevere;
And Niamh and Laban and Fand, who could change to an otter or fawn,
> A E F#m C#m
And the wood-woman, whose lover was changed to a blue-eyed hawk;
> F#m E Am G
And whether I go in my dreams by woodland, or dun, or shore,
> C G E Am
Or on the unpeopled waves with kings to pull at the oar,
> F E Am E
I hear the harp-string praise them, or hear their mournful talk.
> Am F Am G
Because of something told under the famished horn
> Cm G# Cm B
Of the hunter's moon, that hung between the night and the day,
> D# B G Cm
To dream of women whose beauty was folded in dismay,
> B G# G C
Even in an old story, is a burden not to be borne.
