THE HAWTHORN

In darkest night, witching night
Among the hawthorn-o
When the moon has come to Earth
The shepherd tends his flock

A babe in arms, the innocent cry
Among the hawthorn-o
Fire is burning in the sky
The shepherd tends his flock

Youthful maid of truthful staid
Among the hawthorn-o
Tears are offered willingly to
The shepherd and his flock

The veil of death, a pauper’s mask
Among the hawthorn-o
A solemn task must now transpire
The shepherd tends his flock

God is lost, love is lost
Among the hawthorn-o
The dank of time pervades the air
The shepherd tends his flock

An ancient wind disturbs the leaves
Among the hawthorn-o
There is a presence in the air
The shepherd tends his flock

A church bell peals, a branch cast forth
Among the hawthorn-o
Christ shall not receive this soul
The shepherd tends his flock

Into the ground, into the earth
Among the hawthorn-o
Life breeds life, death brings life to
The shepherd and his flock