Bathed in the rust of moon   Is the death bed’s lullaby   Sung so softly with the stars   Reflected in her eyes      It’s the blaze that beckons men   Into the woods, of beaten path   Is the sight of the fire that   No maiden’s eyes should have   Iron does as iron’s told   And drinks of life’s red gold   But shame won’t leave with dying breath   The life that wants it’s own death      And the forest hums its silent hymn   Heard by those of solitude   As mist it wells   Up the brook’s dark banks   Bewitched by these fir woods