Come From The Cold
Come from the cold, come pure child
Come from the mould that makes the racks chide
Come from the fold: first of its pride
Come with the gold; lay it on earth's landslide.
Come with memories, come with a golden tinging wing
Come like canaries freely hooting their ring
Come like old fairies flirt-dancing with their king
Come with worries but nothing to sting.
Come with me, come by me