I have seen Maeve of the Battles wandering over the hill,
And I know that the deed that is in my heart is her deed,
And my soul is blown about by the wild wind of her will,
For always the living must follow whither the dead would lead —
I have seen Maeve of the Battles wandering over the hill.

I would dream a dream at twilight of ease and beauty and peace —
A dream of light on the mountains, and calm on the restless sea;
A dream of the gentle days of the world when battle shall cease
And the things that are in hatred and wrath no longer shall be.
I would dream a dream at twilight of ease and beauty and peace.

The foamless waves are falling soft on the sands of Lissadil
And the world is wrapped in quiet and a floating dream of gray;
But the wild winds of the twilight blow straight from the haunted hill
And the stars come out of the darkness and shine over Knocknarea —
I have seen Maeve of the Battles wandering over the hill.

There is no rest for the soul that has seen the wild eyes of Maeve;
No rest for the heart once caught in the net of her yellow hair —
No quiet for the fallen wind, no peace for the broken wave,
Rising and falling, falling and rising with soft sounds everywhere;
There is no rest for the soul that has seen the wild eyes of Maeve.

I have seen Maeve of the Battles wandering over the hill
And I know that the deed that is in my heart is her deed;
And my soul is blown about by the wild winds of her will,
For ever the living must follow whither the dead would lead —
I have seen Maeve of the Battles wandering over the hill.