Spirits Return, by Denny Lancaster
Dere de go 'a fiddlin
wild and wooly ways forlorn;
To make the sacred music,
heard the day we were born
by the ravens we were waken
twixt midnight and the morn.
No man has seen dem but me,
but the pig tails hear dem play
sometimes in the garden or window
when these fiddlin' souls away,
run with our soul and chillen
out of the covering clay.
But all of my Faerie kinsmen
make music with the spirits now;
Together we cheer and wander
or ride the eagle nest bough,
and the wild swans know me,
and the cow that pulls the plough.
Iffin' ya see me in yer book
be assured this Spirit i'll be back
for we'll return the fiddle we took
'cuz Eagle courage we do not lack.
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