Walking slowly, slowly down
A dusty country road,
The shadows seem to grasp at me
And all around they spoke.
Lowly, lonely ghastly shadows
Grasp away my beating heart.
Walk on, walk on, the night grows old,
Brave heart, brave heart, 'tis but the light
That plays among the trees.
Shriek! - Suddenly my blood runs cold,
Shriek! - My heart, … no time to think,
My breath must fight to come at all,
My eyes have failed to blink.
A scream has split the shadows through
And pierced the night wind’s shrill.
From where could come such tragic sound,
From where or naught at all.
Straightforth outstept a farmer tall,
Who doffs his hat to me.
I see your frozen face does tell
That you have heard the call –
The love call of my pretty prize,
The glory of my state.
He stepped aside and there saw I –
Fake innocence and all –
A peacock spreading out his plumes,
Fitted out for another call.
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