The White Horse of Breagha Vale
One bright summer morning I walked in the green,
in the emerald land of the Gael,
Past an old willow tree on the hill of the Sidhe,
to the river that runs through the vale.
I followed the river right down to the trees
And into the greenwood did go
The sunlight was filtering down through the trees
As I followed the river's flow
For many long hours I walked in the green
To a silvery pool in the glade
And I sat on the ground with the trees all around
And my head on the soft grass I laid
A waterfall's music did lull me to sleep
And I dreamed then of magical things
Of castles and dragons in times long ago
Of wizards and faery kings
I awoke to the sound of hooves on the ground
And a horse came into the glade
It's coat white as milk and shining like silk
No sound or motion I made
It came to the pool and it lowered its head
And it drank of the water so clear
And though it did see me in my grassy bed
The white horse did show no fear
My heart beating quickly I rose up to stand
And a gentle word I did say
With an offering of sweet grass held out in my hand
And a hope it would not run away
The white horse came close to me there in the green
Its breath so warm on my palm
Like a statue it stood there so close to me
It seemed so still and so calm
Then the magic was broken, the horse turned to flee
Like the tension released from a spring
Up on its hindlegs it towered over me
Spread a pair of white feathered wings
I fell to the ground and with one single bound
The horse rose up into the sky
With a beat of its wings and a wild rush of wind
Over the trees it did fly
Since that day long ago many times I returned
To that waterfall pool in the glade
But I never did see the white horse again
Though many long hours I stayed
I will never forget what I saw on that day
In the emerald land of the Gael
Over the trees and flying away
The White Horse of Breagha Vale
