THE sunsets fall and the sunsets fade,But still I walk this shadowy land;And grapple the dark and only the dark In my search for a loving hand.
For it's here a still,deep woodland lies,With spurs of pine and sheaves of fern;But I wander wild,and wail like a child For a face that will never return!
And it's here a mighty water flows,With drifts of wind and wimpled waves;But the darling head of a dear one dead Is hidden beneath its caves.
