a child ballad

Lil weaver girl
spin the sullen solemn wheel
in your Dewey hair
turn the flame that warms us
into a pearl of solemn gold

this wicked world
will not much longer have
the roses or the words of prophets
to pick up among our waking vision

but the decision good of many men
a good folk song to hold
a child ballad
\soothes my heart with all the waves
the frost the cold and all of the ways
my goddess does thread her hair

the night women does
scream and lingers around our
 thatched ole wooden door
the death of the autumn breath
amongst the thorn, please do lay
down. I vanquish thee evil spirit

when the clouds are gone
the lord doth reveal the sun
and in comes the morn inherent
Lil weaver girl spin the solemn hymn
to praise the golden dawn