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Hayley Westenra
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She Moves Through The Fair
My young love said to me, 'My mother won't mind
And my father won't slight you for your lack of kind,'
She stepped away from me, and she moved through the fair.
And fondly I watched her move here and move there.
And then she went homeward just one star away,
Like the swan in the evening moves over the lake.
Last night she came to me, my dead love came in,
So softly she came that her feet made no din.
And she laid her hand on me, and this she did say,
'It will not be long, love ' and she moved through the fair.
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