Shaking their milk-white feet in a ring,
Tossing their milk-white arms in the air;
For they hear the wind laugh,
And murmur and sing
Of a land where even the old are fair,
And even the wise are merry of tongue;
But I heard a reed of Coolaney say,
"When the wind has laughed
And murmured and sung,
The lonely of heart is withered away!"
- W. B. Yeats -