when the fiddler plays All their voices can be heard Long past their woodland days And so they linked their hands and danced Round in circles and in rows And
well And so it came to pass I'd come here to Romani And many a year it took Till I arrived here with thee On dusty roads I walked And over mountains
When the dark wood fell before me And all the paths were overgrown When the priests of pride say there is no other way I tilled the sorrows of stone
and clashed in the dark innyard, And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred; He whistled a tune to the window, and who
will we sleep?" For the Oak and the Ash, they are all cutten down And the walls of bonny Portmore are all down to the ground. O bonny Portmore, you shine where you stand And
river lie Long fields of barley and of rye, That clothe the world and meet the sky; And thro' the field the road run by To many-towered Camelot; And up and
o And there does sit my brother Hugh with a hey ho and a bonny o And by him William, sweet and true the swans swim so bonny o And there does sit
Ride on through the night tide on Ride on through the night tide on There are visions, there are memories There are echoes of thundering hooves There
was a vision before me. We left the music behind and the dance carried on As we stole away to the seashore We smelt the brine, felt the wind in our hair And
straw and of bonfires And dancing till the next sunrise. CHORUS I can see lights in the distance Trembling in the dark cloak of night Candles and lanterns
When darkness lays her crimson cloak Your lamps will call me home And so it's there my homage's due Clutched by the still of the night And now I feel
hast done, Home art gone, and ta'en thy wages Golden lads and girls all must, As chimney-sweepers, come to dust. The sceptre, learning, physic, must All follow this and