| She came to me one morning
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| One lonely Sunday morning
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| Her long hair flowing
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| In the midwinter wind
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| I know not how she found me
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| For in darkness I was walking
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| And destruction lay around me
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| From a fight I could not win
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| She asked me name my foe then
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| I said the need within some men
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| To fight and kill their brothers
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| Without thought of love or God
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| And I begged her give me horses
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| To trample down my enemies
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| So eager was my passion
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| To devour this waste of life
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| But she wouldn't think of battle that
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| Reduces men to animals
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| So easy to begin
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| And yet impossible to end
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| For she's the mother of all men
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| Who counselled me so wisely then
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| I feared to walk alone again
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| And asked if she would stay
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| Oh, lady, lend your hand outright
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| And let me rest here at your side
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| "Have faith and trust in peace," she said
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| And filled my heart with life
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| There's no strength in numbers
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| Have no such misconception
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| But when you need me
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| Be assured, I won't be far away
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| Thus, having spoke, she turned away
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| And though I found no words to say
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| I stood and watched until I saw
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| Her black coat disappear
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| My labour is no easier
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| But now I know I'm not alone
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| I'll find new heart each time
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| I think upon that windy day
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| And if one day she comes to you,
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| Drink deeply from her words so wise
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| Take courage from her as your prize
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| And say hello from me |