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 The Shepherd And The  Ghost
 
 't was an eve in late summer,  was nigh
  a warm sun did colour the sky
  meadows did shine in a strange golden light
 and  did forth the soft haze of night
 
 When through the air a voice did 
 beckoning the shepherd to rise from the 
 
 [THE SHEPHERD:]
  sweet voice does sing in such a woebegone tone?
 What maiden does  the heather alone?"
 
 Bewitched by its tone,  followed her song,
 whilst the sun  descend and the shadows grew long
 In the dim light of  near the sparkling cascade
 on a moss covered stone sat a  young maid
 
 [THE SHEPHERD:]
 "Why art thou dreary? What happened to 
  song didst thou sing so woefully?"
 
 [THE MAIDEN:]
  whither O shepherd! Don't sadden thine heart
  canst not help me - not thou who thou art!
 An old man who's been  in a cradle of wood
 of a tree that at least  hundred years stood,
 cut by a boy who at heart  still pure -
  be my redeemer if he knew that he could..."