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She Moved Through The Fair (Author Unknown) A haunting air from Co. Donegal reputedly dating back to medieval times, it tells the story of a young woman's death before her wedding day and is a popular tale among Celtic peoples.

My young love said to me, "My mother won't mind, And my father won't slight you for your lack of kind." And she stepped away from me, and this she did say, "It will not be long, love, 'til our wedding day." She stepped away from me, and she moved through the fair. And fondly I watched her move here and move there. And she made her way homeward with one star awake, As the swan in the evening moves over the lake. The people were saying, "No two e'er were wed. "For one has a sorrow that never was said." And she smiled as she passed me, with her goods and her gear. And that was the last that I saw of my dear. Last night I dreamt my lost love came in. So softly she entered, her feet made no din. And she laid her hand on me, and this she did say, "It will not be long, love, 'til our wedding day." It will not be long love, 'til our wedding day.

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