William Butler Yeats,
The Fiddler of Dooney
“ When we come at the end of time, To Peter sitting in state, He will smile on the three old spirits, But call me first through the gate;For the good are always the merry, Save by an evil chance, And the merry love the fiddle And the merry love to dance:And when the folk there spy me, They will all come up to me, With ‘Here is the fiddler of Dooney!’ And dance like a wave of the sea. ”
