by Ethna Carbery (Anna MacManus)
Beyond the four seas of Eire, beyond the sunset’s rim,
It lies half-forgot, in a valley deep and dim;
Like a star of fire from the skies’ gold tire,
And whoso drinks the nine drops shall win his heart’s desire —
At the Well o’ the World’s End.
What go ye seeking, seeking, seeking,
O girl white-bosomed, O girl fair and young?
“I seek the Well-water, the cool Well-water,
That my love may have love for me ever on his tongue.”
What go ye seeking, seeking, seeking,
O lad of the dreaming eyes, slender lad and tall?
“I seek the Well-water, the cool Well-water,
That the cailín I love best may love me best of all.”
What go ye seeking, seeking, seeking,
O mother, with your little babe folded on your arm?
“I seek the Well-water, the cool Well-water,
That nine drops upon his lips may shield my child from harm.”
What go ye seeking, seeking, seeking,
O gray head, long weary of the vigil that ye keep?
“I seek the Well-water, the cool Well-water
That nigh it I may rest awhile, and after fall asleep.”
Poems of the Fantastic and Macabre 