Из альбома: Swaddling Songs
Winding up a hillside where the shepherds roam
Counting their flocks in the gloaming
Shining the sea, winking its light to the froth
and the foam
Chilling the air with his shady tread
On came the wolf with surprise
Filling his eyes with soft silent creatures soon to
be dead
Hurry the shepherd man wizened his olden
Go and wave your staff at him
He has come to bury you for claiming his fold
Stillness came into the misty meadows
Down from the banks to the woodland
Clouds gather in skies, giving their rains into
mountains to flow