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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required The Goat’s Tale... Puck Fair, Killorglin Co. Kerry, where in August a wild mountain goat is crowned King Puck by a young girl who then becomes Queen of Puck. The Goat's Tale "There's magic in the Coolroe-stream, or pucks weave herb into the browse to make me dream... In Killorglin town I bowed before a virgin-queen, who gave a crown to make me king with vision over everything. Our match remained unconsummate. For I was hailed on-high, engaged – though caged – in things of state. There, phantoms, clad in cap and boot, waved crooked sticks and mumbled strange in ancient tongue, then bought and sold the living soul of sullen ox and horse and colt. And at my feet, the men danced women down the street, like spectres borne on haunting notes of lonely songs that sang of sorrows in the years: how wanton maids, with torment-eyes, as wild and green as Lough Lean's isles, and ringlets wrought in purest gold, like wavelets caught in sunset's mould, were, by their beauty, thus condemned to birthing pain and living drudge. While boys, like bumble bees, beguiled by nectar spilled by girls, were led along a lane of toil and grudge... …Now I wake-up in the glen, running free of 'Orglin-men, to gambol up the giddy scree into the cloud where Mother Earth becomes the sky; and sense a life set out for me, of butting he and tupping she. Then see the visions of my dream; hear the laughing of the stream; and wonder – why?"
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