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Stratus

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
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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