1. They turned away, though I know not why,
Each time my heart is kind, they angry grow.

2. I'd ransom them, though our pact they deny,
If they but mentioned me, be it high or low.

3. Be they most just or unjust in love's span,
Or blame the smitten one, or him who withdrew,

4. I clung to them when life's boughs burgeoned and ran
With sap, and the days of youth were fresh with dew,

5. No, by Him from whom came the boon of their grace,
By hand and troth, their due cannot be ignored,

6. Their signposts stood though the campfire died apace
And lightning flickers spawned by the clouds were stored

7. In the skies above their land, which never ran dry
Though barren, with roots in its dirt reaching the sky.