chief
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Blue flower waving in the wind,
Say whose blue eyes
Lift up your swaying fragile stem
To the blue skies.
Is she a queen that lies asleep
In a green hill,
With all her silver ornaments
Around her still?
Or is she but a simple girl,
Whose boy was drowned,
In some cold sea, some stormy morn,
On some blue sound?
Say whose blue eyes
Lift up your swaying fragile stem
To the blue skies.
Is she a queen that lies asleep
In a green hill,
With all her silver ornaments
Around her still?
Or is she but a simple girl,
Whose boy was drowned,
In some cold sea, some stormy morn,
On some blue sound?
