Thy natal day doth come but once a year Softly sweeping hence the weight of age my dear Oh this day the world in warmth and splendour lies Whilst Angels fair enrobe thee in Heaven’s lighted skies I pray this coming year shall hold thy gentle hand...

You who seems so wise Oh, tell me this Is it worth leaving a house half built To sleep beneath a golden crown If every stone above my head...

There is a little house that still stands beyond the hill Morning still lingers upon its roof And the wind still carries our names Two cups have grown old upon the table The door has learned every season of our hands...

Oh I saw a little house beyond the hill It stood where the morning stayed a little longer And the wind never seemed in a hurry Oh I dreamt of quiet footsteps Two cups resting upon old wood...

Oh the wind runs free across the endless plain And still it finds a place to rest Not because the sky grows smaller But because a home has found its ground Oh one shall stand and one shall hold...

I saw a man the other day His armour polished bright as silver His hands steady upon the hilt Yet his eyes trembled before the blade Oh tell me this...

Oh I walked through a field today Where every flower bowed with the wind And none of them wondered why they bloomed They bloomed in the wild And the plains enhanced even those that were mild...