Gold leaves on the tree,
As Mananan's daughter
Arose from the sea.
The bud and the blossom,
The fruit of the foam
From Ocean's white bosom
Arose, from her home.
She came at your calling,
O winds of the world,
When the ripe fruit was falling
And the flowers unfurled.
She came at your crying,
O creatures of earth,
At the sound of your sighing
Made music and mirth.
She came at your keening
O dreamers of doom,
And your sleep had new dreaming
And splendour and bloom.