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Lyrics:
't was an eve in late summer, autumn was nigh
still a warm sun did colour the sky
The meadows did shine in a strange golden light
and vales did forth the soft haze of night
When through the air a voice did resound
beckoning the shepherd to rise from the ground
THE SHEPHERD:
"What sweet voice does sing in such a woebegone tone?
What maiden does wander the heather alone?"
Bewitched by its tone, he followed her song,
[lyrics was taken from http://www.lyrics.my/artists/empyrium/lyrics/the-shepherd-and-the-maiden-ghost] whilst the sun did descend and the shadows grew long
[ The Shepherd And The Maiden Ghost lyrics found on http://lyrics.my ]
In the dim light of dusk, near the sparkling cascade
on a moss covered stone sat a crying young maid
THE SHEPHERD:
"Why art thou dreary? What happened to thee?
What song didst thou sing so woefully?"
THE MAIDEN:
"Go whither O shepherd! Don't sadden thine heart
Thou canst not help me - not thou who thou art!
An old man who's been born in a cradle of wood
of a tree that at least a hundred years stood,
cut by a boy who at heart was still pure -
might be my redeemer if he knew that he could..."
still a warm sun did colour the sky
The meadows did shine in a strange golden light
and vales did forth the soft haze of night
When through the air a voice did resound
beckoning the shepherd to rise from the ground
THE SHEPHERD:
"What sweet voice does sing in such a woebegone tone?
What maiden does wander the heather alone?"
Bewitched by its tone, he followed her song,
[lyrics was taken from http://www.lyrics.my/artists/empyrium/lyrics/the-shepherd-and-the-maiden-ghost] whilst the sun did descend and the shadows grew long
[ The Shepherd And The Maiden Ghost lyrics found on http://lyrics.my ]
In the dim light of dusk, near the sparkling cascade
on a moss covered stone sat a crying young maid
THE SHEPHERD:
"Why art thou dreary? What happened to thee?
What song didst thou sing so woefully?"
THE MAIDEN:
"Go whither O shepherd! Don't sadden thine heart
Thou canst not help me - not thou who thou art!
An old man who's been born in a cradle of wood
of a tree that at least a hundred years stood,
cut by a boy who at heart was still pure -
might be my redeemer if he knew that he could..."