TO MORFYDD
Reading edition
A voice on the winds, A voice on the waters, Wanders and cries: O! what are the winds? And what are the waters? Mine are your eyes. Western the winds are, And western the waters, Where the light lies: O! what are the winds? And what are the waters? Mine are your eyes. Cold, cold, grow the winds, And dark grow the waters, Where the sun dies: O! what are the winds? And what are the waters?/ Mine are your eyes. And down the night winds, And down the night waters The music flies: O! what are the winds? And what are the waters? Cold be the winds, And wild be the waters, So mine be your eyes.
Lionel Johnson