O one that holds the strands of fate
Weave this worthless soul a tale
From your fragile winding strings
stronger than armies of noble kings

Don’t let this wandering wretch be lost
Through your halls of ancient tales
With the ways of your silky words
Let my deeds be louder than storms and gales

Let my name be heard when the songbird sings
By your cold and placid grace
To your strands I hold and cling
Until you lift me from my lowly place
And be with you ever…. coiling.