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Whatever walks through Dooney woods
holds its silence like the leaves
That decay in Dooney woods
a sudden autumn weeps and grieves
Whatever whispers in the woods
is heard by some and some alone
The rasp of mossy tongue and lips
the muttering off bark on bone
Whatever moves within the woods
it watches with a yellow eye
And whatever hunts within the pines
is not of kin to you or I
Whatever sleeps in Dooney Woods
you must not meet or catch its stare
And should you travel Dooney woods
then pass by swift and best beware
— Unknown