Melancholy shadows drift, (Repost)
Swirling, swirling in the mist,
Draw a veil across my way,
To hide the place where once we kissed,
And mask the mem'ry of desire.
Whose woods are these?
The poet quandered,
As through their deeps,
In thought he wandered,
Lost in search of hearth and fire.
So too search I, in lonely quest,
Of love, once mine, that now is lost.
In yonder wood I ken she waits,
I seek her now and damn the cost,
My heart lies on its funeral pyre.
In summer light, the wood is green,
In winter frost, its oaks stand bare,
I curse the mist that hides my path,
And carry through as leif I dare,
And know my hope a cursed liar.