AND THAT BEING SO My soul is the High Meadow we played in, My cousin and I, when we were young, The High Meadow where we danced Round a fairy ring. My soul is the figure of my first love Skipping quickly across the sands, Her hair dyed yellow - was that wise? Round her laughing eyes. But the High Meadow's been built upon And that being so and my first love gone My soul must step in the streets Round the fire of song. -- Paul Durcan