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Stratus
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Of Pines and Heather
Early sun for an early woman By the stream she's greeting the day A nymph she's born of pines and heather Dances through the meadows unburdened by time
Down by the stream a tune in the wind A tune so fair she could cry Like hers, a greeting for the morning sun A fiddler extolling the forest that bore their lives
'Come here, follow me, lady of dawn Let me sing your beauty so pure Come dance to my tune, come dance through your meadows I'll play you happy, I'll play anything for your smile'
That's his trade, a sweet serenade To sing to the world, to prove her his love But words of the pines had given her signs That noone should trust the tunes of the sprite and his lust
'Oh no', she said, our lady of dawn 'I have caught the hoot from afar Borne on the cries of the owl so wise You fiddlers are known to lure any maiden astray'
'Oh no', he said, our sprite of the brook 'You don't know all the times I have heard Don't fall for his music, it's sweet but luring Well, it's sweet for it's all I can prove for my love'
And off she went, with a heavenly scent And left him there yearning, with a heart still burning To prove them wrong, he sings out his song For the beautiful lady, that one day she'll maybe return
So she's leaving for the valley 更多更详尽歌词 在 ※ Mojim.com 魔镜歌词网 Takes a picture everyday Of the place she used to stay Claiming apples of her eye Though she wonders everyday Was it fate to be alone?
The owl oversees the brook never feeds upon the morn In yield of his creed they will be gone
So, he's heading for the mountains Given up on growing up In the bower of his making Spring is calling for rejoicing Though he's kept to play his part For the spirits in the valley
The owl dresses down as your brother in view of those he quelled In yield of his creed they are dispelled
And for each summer she'd left crying He'd call upon her in song The wind will never call you brother But it will never be wrong
There goes our lady of the morning Merged with the heather alone There goes our sprite and his tune Carved in a heart of stone
So here's to all of you young maidens And all young fiddlers alike Relying of pines and heather Will see your feelings denied
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