He Lingers
Deep in the forest he lingers
Not a fire, not a light to be seen
No relief for his icy-cold fingers
No bed for his back, tall and lean
Not a fire, not a light to be seen
Yet he sits there as the crickets sing
No bed for his back, tall and lean
But no matter, for he is no king.
Yet he sits there as the crickets sing
Closes his eyes and whispers her name
But no matter, for he is no king,
A betrothal would only bring shame.
He closes his eyes and whispers her name,
No relief for his icy-cold fingers
A betrothal to him would only bring shame
So deep in the forest, he lingers.
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