Хелависа - The Hosting of the Sidhe
Em D A
C Hm Em
Em G
Am
The host is riding from Knocknarea
C D Em
And over the grave of Clooth-na-Bare;
G Am
Caoilte tossing his burning hair,
C D Em
And Niamh calling Away, come away.
F Em Am
Empty your
heart of its mortal dream.
F Em
Am
The winds
awaken, the leaves whirl round,
F G Am
Our cheeks
are pale, our hair is unbound,
F G A
Our breasts
are heaving, our eyes are agleam,
D Am
Our arms are
waving, out lips are apart;
D Am
And if any
gaze on our rushing band,
D Am
We come
between him and the deed of his hand,
C D Em
We come
between him and the hope of his heart.
The host is rushing 'twixt night and day,
And where is there hope or deed as fair?
Caoilte tossing his burning hair,
And Niamh calling Away, come away.
And if any
gaze on our rushing band,
We come
between him and the deed of his hand,
We come
between him and the hope of his heart.
|