The eyes of dawn will make my bed
In the river of some dream,
Where half forgotten limbs will rise
Like vapours on the breeze;
But who will walk or lean on me
Lean against this idle frame?
Who will take my grey-goose quilt?
And rap it around my arms
And say wake my love for I am here
For I am here to stir your lonesome heart
And warm your bones in winter’s dark
Till the dawn-light ember lilts
