The moon's constant mistress
And the lonely owl my marrow
The flaming brake and the nightcrow
Make me to my sorrow
The moon embrace her shepherd
And the queen of death her slaves
While the first does born
The star does morn...
With an host of furious fancies
Where of I am commander
With a burning spear
And a horse of air
I know more then mortals,
For oft when then lie sleeping
I see the stars at mortal wars
In the star lit cosmic weeping
By a spell of darkest might
I summoned am to battle
Morn and eve,day and night
To slain the christian cattle |
