I walk the winter woods with Herne
And all the trees are bare
‘Alone’ at dusk I do return,
for no one sees Him there.
“Why go you in the midnight frost?”
They ask, “when hearth is warm?”
They say, “Oh, what if you get lost,
Who’ll keep you safe from harm?”
“There’s danger, yes,” I do agree
“and warmth and food do beckon
It would be nice to stay inside
And knit some socks, I reckon.
Yet I must dare to be so bold
To walk into the wild
To listen to Herne’s teachings old
You see, I am His child.”