Haunted

When an heir is born, he is heard to mourn

And when ought is to befall

That ancient line in the pale of moonshine

He walks from all to hall

His form you may trace, but not his face

'tis shadowed by his cowl

But his eyes may be seen from the folds between

And they seem of a parted soul

Say nought to thim as he walks the hall

And he'll say nought to you

He sweeps along in his dusky pall

As o'er the grass the dew

Then gramercy for the black friar

Heaven sain him, fair no foul

And whatsoe'er may be his prayer

Let ours be for his soul

When an heir is born, he is heard to mourn

And when ouhgt is to befall

That ancient line in the pale of moonshine