By Lough-Na-Gar: Green Light

The light of the world is of gold,
But the light of the green earth fills
The nestling heart of the hills:
And the world's hours are old, 
And the world's thoughts are a dream,
Here, in the ancient place
Of peace, where old sorrows seem
As the half-forgotten face
Of flower-bright cities of gold
That blossom beyond the height
Seems in the earth-green light
That is old as the earth is old.