[Verse 1] In Briar Glen where the church bells lean, There dwelt a maid whom none had seen Save moonlit eyes and a silver scar, They named her beast and barred the bar. She kept her grief beneath her tongue, While cruel old tales from doorways clung. [Verse 2] One winter eve by the ruined mill, A fox-shaped ghost sat laughing still. He wore a crown of autumn flame, And knew the village knew his name. “Good sir,” she said, “why mock my plight?” “Sweet wolf,” quoth he, “I mock the night.” [Chorus] O, thou art feared, and I am flown, Yet neither heart would harm its own. Through thorn and thaw, through feast and feud, We found in one another something good. Though time hath turned our paths apart, No malice keeps thy door from my heart. [Verse 3] They traded secrets beneath the yew: She spoke of wounds the villagers drew. He told of schemes and a stolen ring, Of kings who died and crows that sing. She taught him mercy, stern and slow; He taught her where the false winds blow. [Verse 4] But pride came riding in a red disguise, With half-truths glittering in their eyes. He vanished when her curse took hold; She called him coward, faithless, cold. He answered none, but crossed the sea, And left one silver acorn tree. [Chorus] O, thou art feared, and I am flown, Yet neither heart would harm its own. Through thorn and thaw, through feast and feud, We found in one another something good. Though time hath turned our paths apart, No malice keeps thy door from my heart. [Bridge] Years rolled on like iron wheels, Past broken vows and mended heels. At dawn she heard his phantom tread, A foxfire lantern, pale and red. “Wilt thou return?” she asked the rain. “Not as before,” he breathed again. [Verse 5] They met where old stone crosses grew, And neither claimed the blame was due. He bowed; she smiled with guarded grace, The moon made room for either face. No kiss was sworn, no bond restored, Yet peace sat down beside the sword. [Final Chorus] O, thou art feared, and I am flown, Yet neither heart would harm its own. Through thorn and thaw, through feast and feud, We found in one another something good. If fate should turn our roads anew, I’ll bear no spite, dear ghost, for you. [Outro] So sing of the wolf whom the world misread, And the fox who walks where the dead have fled. Estranged, not enemies, beneath heaven’s art— Two old companions with unvenomed hearts.
