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The Wanderer
The way spread out before me, a threading, stretching road
And the sun did shine bright o’er me, a brilliant yellow gold
My feet, they soon did carry me, towards the rising fold
And the path, it was a-twisting, twisting, twisting---
And the path, it was a twisting and the sun kept off the cold.
On the endless journey, I set forth without fear
I, the fair-haired wand’rer, with eyes so childlike clear
Amber sunset followed, and nightfall did draw near
And the shadows were a-stretching, stretching, stretching---
And the shadows were a-stretching as sunlight did yield here.
The road, it did divide, and my choice was offered so
One path did offer kindness, an easy trek I know
The other rocky and solemn, much harder to go
The harsh way I was a-trav’lling, trav’lling, trav’lling---
The harsh way I was trav’lling, and the wind began to blow.
The road, just then did darken but I carried on my trail
The moon, my only mem’ry of the bright sun’s light so pale
And forward I continued, for my journey I’d not fail
And the stars, they were a-twinkling, twinkling, twinkling---.
And the stars, they were a-twinkling despite the gloomy hail.
Bright beacons, they did guide me, until I did reach day
A dark-haired man did meet me with eyes a stony grey
I knew he was the reason I’d been searching for this way.
Entwin’d we went a-wand’ring, wand’ring, wand’ring---
Entwin’d we went a-wand’ring, ne’er leading me astray.
I was as the morning, and he was as the night
My dark-haired, wand’ring stranger, a myst’ry of delight
And then I knew I lov’d him, eyes so shining bright
But he went a-trailing, trailing, trailing ---
But he went a- trailing, heading from my sight.
I struggled hard to follow, the road did intervene
Veering me away from him, the one with whom I’d been.
What could I do but follow? This path for meant for me.
And the wind it was a-howling, howling, howling---
And the wind it was a-howling, mourning loud for he.
Alone, I did continue, without his helping role
Charron’s price of passage always was a soul.
Instead of my brave spirit, Death had chosen him to go
And the days, I spent a-pining, pining, pining---
And the days, I spent a-pining for a dark-haired, strange hero..
