W.B. Yeats (1865–1939). The Wind Among the Reeds. 1899.
11. The Fiddler of Dooney
W
Folk dance like a wave of the sea;
My cousin is priest in Kilvarnet,
My brother in Moharabuiee.
They read in their books of prayer;
I read in my book of songs
I bought at the Sligo fair.
To Peter sitting in state,
He will smile on the three old spirits,
But call me first through the gate;
Save by an evil chance,
And the merry love the fiddle
And the merry love to dance:
They will all come up to me,
With ‘Here is the fiddler of Dooney!’
And dance like a wave of the sea.