|
Two[Am] island swans, mated for [G]life,
And[Am] his faithful heart would not con[G]sider any other[Am] wife.
For
three years peaceful joy midst the rushes of the [G]pond,
[Am]Proud and gentle was the loving of the[G] last two island
[Am]swans.
Their love was like a circle, no beginning and no end,
With his lady by his side a treasure and
best friend.
The pond was all so peaceful in the rising of the sun,
Young and free at the island breeze their life had
just begun.
'Til a dread day in November when the searing cold did start,
Stalked the hunter with his bow
and put an arrow through her heart.
Husband come to my side let your feathers warm my pain,
For I feel I will not spend
another day with you again.
And the [C]cold [G]winds [Am]blow,
He was [C]brave but [G]he's laid [Em]low.
By
her [C]body in the [G]isle of [Em]mist,
I [C]saw [D]him [E]give her one last [G]cold [A]kiss, one [C]last[D] cold[Am] kiss.
Of
swans the people talk of only one in this days tide,
Through they brought him twenty ladies he would take no other bride.
They
say he will not move from the place where she did fall,
Once so proud he's beaten now and he will not rise at all.
|
