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O folk of the Sidhe,
Tonight when the doors of Ben Bulben open
Will you not ferry me away?
For sick I am of this world-
The ancient art’s but diminishing.
For I am sick of this world
And there’s naught a remedy.

O folk of the Sidhe,
Will you not spirit away mine body and soul
And leave behind a placebo of inanimately?
For I am sick of this world.
Take mine self away!