(©Joy Shannon 2025)
Where now the horse and the rider?
Where is the horn that was blowing?
Where is the helm and the hauberk
Where is the bright hair flowing?
They have passed like the wind and rain in the meadow
These days go down in the West
Behind the hills into shadow
Where is the hand on the harpstring
And the red fire glowing?
Where is the spring and the harvest
And the tall corn growing.
They have passed like the wind and rain in the meadow
These days go down in the West
Behind the hills into shadow
Who shall gather the smoke
Of the dead wood burning,
Or behold the flowing years
From the sea returning.
They have passed like the wind and the rain in the meadow
These days go down in the West
Behind the hills into shadow
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