This long song-poem by Robin Williamson seems to have captured with words the faerie wisp all of you fine fellows have spent most of your lives chasing:
Five Denials on Merlin's Grave
"Long before we ever took the names
of English, Scottish, Welsh, or Irish
and long before the tower of Babel fell and language cracked
there was interchange and colloquy and conversation upon this world
and standing stones remain to bear it testimony
from China to the Americas, and from India to Ireland, patterning."
"let us sing the skill of the master builders
long ago
for it was no peasantry clodding after scrawny cows
who raised the hollow hills and henge stones
but calm and cunning wizards worked these wonders
continuing the snail line, dod flat at ring stand
ruling scribing and pegging out in granite
the windings of the dragon track
that writhes unhewn
in sward and marsh and moss and meadowland
that twines in stellar gravity among the eaves of the cubic sky
serpent bird of Hy Brassail"
(Lyrics: https://www.musixmatch.com/lyrics/Robin-Williamson/Five-Denials-on-Merlin-s-Grave)
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