A pity beyond all telling

Is hid in the heart of love:

The folk who are buying and selling The clouds on their journey above

The cold wet winds ever blowing

And the shadowy hazel grove

Where mouse-grey waters are flowing Threaten the head that I love eb4R9g5PEyndY7ulYHOg1eV4yYVGh2ajV6idLg6LbOIE85nOkd88An7qoKx67aDD