The Herb-Leech

I have gathered luss At the wane of the moon, And supped its sap With a yewen spoon. I have sat a spell By the carn of Medb, And smelt the mould Of the red queen's grave. I have dreamed a dearth In the darkened sun, And felt the hand Of the Evil One. I have fathomed war In the comet's tail, And heard the crying Of Gall and Gael. I have seen the spume On the dead priest's lips, And the "holy fire" On the spars of ships; And the shooting stars On Barthelmy's Night, Blanching the dark With ghostly light; And the corpse-candle Of the seer's dream, Bigger in girth Than a weaver's beam; And the shy hearth-fairies About the grate, Blowing the turves To a whiter heat. All things on earth To me are known, For I have the gift Of the Murrain Stone!