Maid, truly I see
|
Now it must be a long way down
|
And with love's burnt shore
|
Must all dalliance hither
|
Crumble and wither
|
|
Oh strange,
|
Methought it strange
|
Thou couldst deprive me of my crown
|
Thou cast upon me as linden bears fruit of bitter strain
|
|
And I would go forsooth to the dragon's tooth
|
If thus a chance were gained
|
To resurrect that part of your wanton heart
|
To whose grave my own is chained
|
|
And hold, ere thou dost go
|
Were not thy moments gilded too?
|
And in honesty didst thou not measure for measure
|
Countenance pleasure?
|
|
Cold wert thou so cold
|
Lest thy mind be frozen too
|
And will not spring be reborn
|
But might the sun for the frost here
|
That all be not lost herein
|
|
And I would rather, zounds
|
It were hell's own hounds
|
Whose foul breath upon my face
|
Did portent my doom
|
Than to bear the gloom
|
Of a world stripped of thy grace
|
|
And so in truth I know
|
Yes it will be a long way down
|
And if go thou must
|
Ere we should meet accidental
|
Prithee be gentle
|
And though distant now
|
Perchance the hand of time may soothe
|
And though lost at six
|
If I should live to be seven I might forget Stephanie
|
|
-----------------
|
A Long Way Down From Stephanie
|
| Al Stewart |
