A Hostile Fate: The Wayfarer, Pt. 4
But lo, the exile beseeches
He who art mournful of voice
The summer's bright warden to sing
And so the harshness of frost dispel
Yet sorrows announce, bitter of heart
Eroding of life, a hostile fate
A spirit as the sea-flood, wide
A distant, pale sun fades for he
Fallen is now this spleandour all
Joys are broken, passed away
The weaker remain, hold in this world
Wax old and sere, age comes for him
Yet sorrows announce, bitter of heart
Eroding of life, a hostile fate
A spirit as the sea-flood, wide
A distant, pale sun fades for he
Those yearned for he grieves, long of day
And knows his friends of old, in earth decayed
The sons of noble ones
Are to the earth
The sons of noble ones
Are to the earth enshrined
May not his body then, when life erodes
Pain feel, nor withered hand move
Nor shall his mind race to the dawn
But may absolution come