She wore a cloak of feathers And rode a mare of purest white A silver chalice in her hand A look of sadness in her eyes A thing of beauty to behold But a sorrow to possess She'll take all that you offer Until there's nothing left
Face hidden in shadow Beneath a hood of quills The pinion of her raiment Conceal all her ills
Beneath her cloak of feathers Lies a body soft and fine Eyes of hazel green Flowing hair as dark as wine A thing of beauty to remember But a sorrow to forget She took all that i gave her Till there was nothing left
Of owl and of raven Of peacock and dove Of swan and sparrow Woven with her love Face hidden in shadow Beneath a hood of quills The pinions of her raiment Conceal her ills
