Satyrs

Hear the satyrs calling, crying,
As the windy day is dying
O'er the rocks;
And the shepherd speeds the flocks
They're eyeing!

See the satyrs leap and scramble
Thro' the briar and brake and bramble;
In the glow
Of the red sun sunken low
They gambol,

Never thinking of the morrow,
Without head or heart to borrow
Any care.
Of all sadness, of all sorrow
Unaware.



Credits
Writer(s): Carline Van Roos, Matthieu Sachs, Public Domain
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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