And now my charms
|
are all o'erthrown
|
And what strength
|
I have's mine own
|
Which is most faint
|
now t'is true
|
I must here be released by you
|
But release me from my bands
|
With the help of your good hands
|
Gentle breath of yours my sails
|
Must fill or else
|
my project fails
|
Which was to please
|
Which was to please
|
Now I want
|
Spirits to enforce
|
art to enchant
|
And my ending is despair
|
Unless I be relieved by prayer
|
Which pierces
|
so that it assaults
|
Mercy itself
|
and frees all faults
|
As you from your crimes
|
would pardon'd be
|
Let your indulgence set me free
|
h the white road smoking
|
behind him and his rapier
|
brandished high
|
Blood-red were the spurs
|
i' the golden noon
|
wine-red was his velvet coat
|
when they shot him down
|
on the highway
|
Down like a dog on the highway
|
And he lay in his blood
|
on the highway
|
with the bunch of lace
|
at his throat
|
<Interlude>
|
Still of a winter's night
|
they say, when the wind
|
is in the trees
|
When the moon
|
is a ghostly galleon
|
tossed upon the cloudy seas
|
When the road is a ribbon
|
of moonlight
|
over the purple moor
|
A highwayman comes riding
|
Riding, riding
|
A highwayman comes riding
|
up to the old inn-door
|
|
-----------------
|
Prospero's Speech
|
Loreena McKennitt |