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Wherein upon a darken road

the path by which the traveler trode

there amongst the guileless snow

Alighten by moonlight’s o’er throw


Lost among the recurring trees

On last breath, and on his knees

He took into him the cold grey night

His death foreseen in by a distant light.



On he slipped into humble death

Absolving life in shallow breaths

His eyes turned to the swollen moon

Knowing death was all too soon.



O’ here upon a darken road

Amongst the trees and pallid cold

He met the Maiden in mortal form

Her eyes alight and pale skin warm.


Her hair was gold as the finest thread

On her feet she lightly tread

To gather him up in her grace

She kissed him lightly o’er his face.



‘O’ little child, O’ mortal man’

She whispered light as angels can

‘Be now still and close thy eyes,

I’ve come to sever your earthly ties’



And when he gave a mournful sigh

His body quiet in the snow-bank lye

The Maiden took his ghostly hand

To lead him to the spirit’s land.



Away there from the darken road

The Maiden and a spirit trode

Away from a man, dead in the snow

Past the yew in ancient row.



‘O’ gentle Lady, O’ gentle bride,

Whilst you stay here by my side?’

And then she turned her face to him

To him she looked, her lips drawn grim.


‘Alas, my love, my belov’d man,

Only to your destiny that I can,

Yet after that you start anew,

But always know my love is true!’



And there he kissed her, his spirit guide

And silent they went, side by side

Through the night and then through light

Until the sun did grant them sight.



By morning in another land

When now the earth was made of sand

She said goodbye, and left his side

For back again, the road she’d ride.



His eyes he closed, deathly tight

To shade him from a radiant light

And there he lay, a new born babe

Early born to greet the day.



Aye, he heard the Maiden say

Whispered in his ear this day

‘Yet after this you begin anew,

But always know my love is true!’



‘For today for you, my little one,

The sun has risen brightly shone,

And thus shall eternity, it will repeat,

For the human spirit, yet incomplete. . .’
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