Song from Incidental Music

Shy thoughts and grave hands do wander as they're kissed

From furrow to furrow within the palms of amethyst

How frail is your tongue whose sound is gone sere

Will it cleave a tasteful song

The means are still unclear

With shy thoughts and torn wide eyes

Welladay welladay

Can't I beg of you to stay

Pale lilies in her frail

Dark leaves in my hair

With dark leers and a sigh

Is there an armour of snow

For when I bore a troubled mind

Wind whirls to and fro

With shy thoughts and scattered wee hands

Turn away turn away

Can't I beg of you to stay

A vague song of amethyst comes in vain welladay

Is there no place for you to stay

And when the hills come alive the tune to and fro