Let me drink of Your waters

That flow from Your spring,

And ride Your mare's back

To take me and bring,

All the tree's secrets

That are whispering low,

To the winds in Your hair

That speak as they blow.

Let me fly with blue wings

To Your moon dripping blood,

And swim Your dark seas

To Your bliss bearing flood

Of all the Earth's passions

That are whispering low,

To the winds in Your hair

That speak as they blow.

Let me play in Your darkness

That fills Your deep caves,

And dance in the fires

That are lit at the raves -

Of all the Earth's children

That are whispering low

To the winds in Your hair

That speak as they blow.

. . . . . . .Roderick 1988