• Over the Isle’s misty hills, through her shadowed valleys,
    Creviced face and sunny day tell the near hour.

    Through her visage I heard a soft song whispered as I neared,
    I now traveled long singing this song, in search of Ire’s feared.

    Through cave and village I doth travel my journey not at an end,
    Flipping stones and searching rivers for my dear lost friend.

    I call to her yet she may not come, the breath of air wasted upon my tongue,
    I call to her and still not come, forsaken by the Earth.

    The golden beauty was your downfall, the pomegranate made it worse,
    Persephone my love I call from above, return to me on summers eve,

    We shall dance the dance of the thousand flowers, Demeter shall be pleased,
    And bequeathed by Zeus, you must return, my journey to start anew.