The Heathered Moor
The Cheeky Celt
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Where the pale mist curls on the heathered hill,
And the old stones dream in the dew,
A shadow moves where the world grows still-
I walk the twilight through.
A memory lingers beside the stream,
In the hush where linnets fly,
I search for the echo of one lost dream
Where glens meet the folding sky.
Oh, the wind knows your name in the gathering dusk,
And the stars keep watch above-
When the night bird sings in the haunted hush,
I remember, I remember love.
I gather wildflowers with trembling hands
Where you wandered long ago,
Their scent is the song of forgotten lands
And hope I cannot let go.
So I'll follow the path where willows bend,
Past ruins, mossy and old-
For I know at the end where the moon ascends
Is a story yet untold.
Oh, the wind knows your name in the gathering dusk,
And the stars keep watch above-
When the night bird sings in the haunted hush,
I remember, I remember love.