The Singing Woman

THERE was a singing woman Came riding across the mead At the time of the mild May weather, Tameless, tireless; This song she sung: “I am fair, I am young!” And many turned to heed.

And the same singing woman Sat crooning in her need At the time of the winter weather; Friendless, fireless, She sang this song: “Life, thou’rt too long!” And there was none to heed.