Beautiful, Kat!

This is a personal favorite.

I am the mountainy singer-- The voice of the peasants dream, The cry of the wind on the wooded hill, The leap of the fish in the stream.

Quite and love I sing-- The carn on the mountain crest, The cailin in her lover's arms, The child at its mothers breast.

Beauty and peace I sing-- The fire on the open hearth, the cailleach spinning at her wheel, The plough in the broken earth.

Travail and pain I sing-- The bride on the childing bed, The dark man laboring at his rhymes, The ewe in the lambing shed.

Sorrow and death I sing-- The canker come on the corn, The fisher lost in the mountain loch, The cry at the mouth of the morn.

No other life I sing, For I am the sprung of the stock, That broke the hilly land for bread, And built the nest in the rock!

--Joseph Campbell

John OSh