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Melancholia

My misty mountains don't grieve me,
You're filling my eyes with tears.
Thy brutal winds rather relieve me
Though waking in me pains and fears.

The dales once have buried my mother
And never heard me cry.
Heath you'll cover more than one further
Still I'll stay with you till I die.

Your beauty may bright be and gloomy
Its power demotes queens and kings.
If my hearts solicity dooms me,
Believe me, I'll just spread my wings.

I sit by the fireplace lonely
Reflecting those things in the past.
Myself is my friend one and only,
Now I wish I owned wings at last.