My lady Sybil is pining away

My lady Sybil is pining away. Her face is all ashen, her fair hair – uncombed.

My lady Sybil is pining away. She scarcely sleeps, and she seldom speaks.

My lady Sybil is pining away. She spends all her days a-wandering the woods.

My lady Sybil is pining away. She’s no longer fairest, My Lord, she’s a shade.

My lady Sybil is pining away. She dreams of the Hunt, then she cries in her sleep.

My lady Sybil is pining away. The Lord of the shadows has taken her prime.

My lady Sybil is pining away. She is there, in her tower, all grief and despair.

My lady Sybil is pining away. She looks away, and she’s distant and frail.

My lady Sybil is pining away. She yearns for the one who will never be hers.

My lady Sybil is pining away. The Hunt is no joke, she has seen it, I fear.

My lady Sybil is pining away. She’s given her heart to the Lord of the ways.

My lady Sybil is pining away, I’m afraid. And Nos Calan Gaeaf is close.

My lady Sybil is pining away. It means that they will come again, so I fear.

My lady Sybil is pining away. The Lord of the mists always claims what is his.

My lady Sybil is pining away. Her days are all up, and she knows it for sure.

My lady Sybil is pining away. The Wild Hunt is here, and she’s taking her leave.

Farewell, lady Sybil

May Hunt take you home,

Wherever thy home may be.

Farewell, lady Sybil,

May he grant you joy,

That you’ve never known before.

Published by aneuringwynn

Tarot master, channeler, awenydd

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