The white woods walk
About the hills...

And who
are you...

When they come
They will mock and boast...

Once for the witches rabbit hole
And twice for the foxes hymn...

“There are children here”
“There are children here, you know...

The maiden so fair
In all her grace...

Evil expects that from others
Not to seek comfort from faith of his mothers...

Sounds of coarse disdain
This man stands on baseless words...

A gift of violets for my hearth and home
Her love of gold as mine alone...

Child are you grieving
To words she is leaving...