MARCHWOOD

Through the Marchwood rides a horseman,
Dressed in silver trimmed with gold
She was proud and would not see him,
O her heart was of the cold

He said: 'I am a sorceror, I am a mage,
I own the wisdom of the writing on the page'
She said: 'I am surrounded by bright mirrored walls,
Your strongest sorcery will touch me not at all - think again. Think again.'

Through the Marchwood rides a horseman,
Dressed in velvet trimmed with fur
She was proud and would not see him,
Knowing what his wishes were

He said: 'I am a warrior, I am a knight,
I offer fealty to the Queen for whom I'd fight'
She said: 'I am the chatelaine of all these lands
My safety lies within my own, not others' hands - think again. Think again.'

Through the Marchwood rides a horseman,
Plainly dressed, no airs at all
She was minded to receive him,
Met him in her bannered hall

He said: 'I am a journeyman, I trade in songs,
She said: 'I am a ballad, but my story is too long'
He said: 'I am a patient man, and a fool besides'
She said: 'I like your patience, Marchwood, better than your pride'
He said: 'I am an artisan, I work in stone'
She said: 'I am a tower standing isolate, alone'
He said: 'Are you a changeling, then?' She said: 'I am'
He said: 'Then choose your shape and catch me if you can,
If you can, if you can, if you can'