Lyrics

All those wide heaths will I walk? All those shadowed, silky lands? See the golden Sun on high See the silver Moon arise Will I ever, will I again Feel the rich tide in thy light? See the golden Sun on high See the silver Moon arise Will you ever, will you again Unseal thine orphan, charming star? The mysteriousness of dusk and the grandeur of Sunlight do unite some times. On these rare occasions Silence is loomed around the hearts and Grief appears On ambling horse to traverse hills and houses Oblique beds, motionless pictures slowly and then We shall remember the olden curse again: Hic omnia habet Mors! See the golden Sun on high See the silver Moon arise Will I ever, will I again Feel the rich tide in thy light? Hic omnia habet Mors!