I walk along the streamlets edge,
On a lonely winters night.
The light snow crunching underfoot,
The bright moonlight overhead,
The forest echos light.
The sky a field of angels eyes,
Shining gems in the night.
So close to touch,
So far to reach,
but watching over me.
A lark calls out thru the woods,
It's echo across the sloping vale,
Saying goodnight at last to all.
I think about my day's adventure,
And wonder what tomorrow holds.
Tired after a long days toils,
Trudging on in the snow,
my road my only secrete.
The end is just around the bend,
And slightly further up-ahead.
Under the arched pine tree boughs,
I enter at last, into the glen,
A cheerful place to stop at night.
Golden pine needles coat the floor,
No snow can enter here.
Across the brook on a foot bridge,
I lead my horse to rest.
Then enter the tavern,
warm and bright;
A cozy feel, a friendly face,
They welcome me back,
I'm home at last.
In the halls of Guardian's Realm