Under the moon of the fairy night
When the days are short
And the stars are bright,
On a puff of air and a sea of red
They rend the veil
From the Land of Dead.
Before, behind, betwixt, between,
In the nether world,
They bloom unseen --
A ghost, a thought, a root, a stem,
A silent bud,
An unsung hymn.
Shake off the veil and beat the drums!
Let cymbals play,
For angels come!