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.