Cold crystal light shines faint above
While I sleep on and dream of love
That once would sit about my feet
Share whispered words and single beat

On mouldering leaves an old wolf prowls
Tormented by the light he howls
And leaves me to the biting cold
With woody stories never told

Of silver face that takes the mind,
Or grips the soul and shakes the kind
Of heart that may be set to break,
Or moves the very Earth to quake

Wood thoughts are mine of damp and moss
My branches, wind-blown, bend and toss
But I will stretch to touch the moon
For daylight will be here too soon