Troubadour Heather Dale

No one knew from whence he’d come, or all the shadings of his life
He’d walked in dreams across the land and waking flown within the night

Oh how he enchanted us ’til summer fled and autumn turned
Oh how he enchanted us and left us rich with what we’d learned

We knew him from the tales he told in breath and string, in gaze and drum
We marveled at the dancing world our simple silence had become

Oh how he enchanted us ’til summer fled and autumn turned
Oh how he enchanted us and left us rich with what we’d learned

So raise your voices, raise your glass!

That troubadour has left our hall; those summer days were far too few
But journeys call to every man and his, like ours, began anew

Where once he sat within our hall and kindled joy in every heart
Where once he sat within our hall, new fingers move upon his harp
New fingers move upon the harp

So raise your voices, raise your glass!