The river’s rolling surface, glinting in the sun, is white as silver. Here, the air is cool, even cold, and the river’s melody is soft in my ears. Some shade’s beneath this drooping tree, and drowsy thoughts are mine. Dipping my bare feet into the current, I stop for a moment to think of all that was and wonder what can be. A journey is a lovely thing, but I long to go home again where I’m meant to be.
Follow me, follow me, follow me into the setting dawn.
Laugh with me, oh laugh; the sun rises at evensong.
Tale Told 