Songs of Love

Ask not the song to be sung,
Or the bell to rung,
Or if my tale is done.
The answer is all-and none.
The answer is all-and none.

Oh, white was the colour of my love,
As bright and white as a dove,
And white was he, as fair as she,
Who sundered my love from me.

Ask not the tale to be done,
The rhyme to be rung,
Or if the sun has sung.
The answer is all-and none.
The answer is all-and none.

Oh, black was the colour of my sight,
as dark and black as the night,
and dark was I, as dark as sky,
whose lightning bared the lie.

Ask not the bell to be rung,
or the song to be sung,
or if my tale is done.
The answer is all-and none.
The answer is all-and none.

The Sybran Song

When the snow drops on the stone,
When the wind song's all alone,
When the iceswords form in twain,
Sing of the hearths where we've lain.
When the green tips break the snow,
When the cold streams start to flow,
When the snow hares turn to black,
Sing out to call our love back.
When the plains grass whispers gold,
When the red blooms flower bold,
When the year's foals gallop long,
Hold to the fall and our song…

…catch a falling fire; hold it to the skies;
never let it die away.
For love may come and fill your empty eyes
with the light of more than day…

…I would not live without you,
like aching souls I know,
like older men with hearts of stone,
who chose to live alone…
I would not love without you,
like empty homes I've seen…

You are the fire of my nights,
the light of my days,
and the end of my wand' ring ways.
You are…you are…you are
the sun in the skies.

…high upon highland, the brightest of days,
I thought of my lover, and his warm, loving ways…

…and in the summer, and under the trees,
my love will lift you across the farthest seas…

I watched my love sail out to sea,
His hand was deft; he waved to me.
But then the waters foamed white and free
Just as my love turned false to me.
Oh, love is wild, and love is bold,
The fairest flower when e' er it is new,
But love grows old, and waxes cold
And fades away like morning dew…