I see the wolves gathered on the hill And the carrion birds that fly Etched against the witching moon I was a string in Apollos lyre I was the sword in a warriors hand I was the crown on an emperors brow I was the seal on a sorcerers heart I saw the glory of Atlantis fallthe jeweled spires that would gleam no more I saw the grandeur that once was Greeceits crumbling walls I now call my home I see a woman crying on my moundshe has been lover and homeland to me Alas! I know I will not see her againthe kingdom of the shades is my home Where the Sidhe play mournful tunes Where the sea is black, without a shore Where meadows are strewn with ash
greeceits, moundshe, againthe, fallthe, jeweled