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 RxYn7p6NIiURAGGkVV7s4Bnv4bUWyYW8Y6eVeFyR2vr9ebfOQKQanJEBWtwQpmUD