Upon the hearth the fire is red, beneath the roof there is a bed. But not yet weary are our feet, still round the corner we may meet a sudden tree or standing stone, that none have seen but we alone. Still round the corner there may wait, a new road or a secret gate. And though we pass them by today, tomorrow we may come this way. And take the hidden paths that run. Towards the Moon or to the Sun.
Apple, thorn, and nut and sloe ; Let them go! Sand stone and pool and dell ; Fare you well! Home is behind, the world ahead. And there are many paths to tread. Through shadows to the edge of night, until the stars are all alight. Then world behind and home ahead, we'll wander back to home and bed. Mist and twilight, cloud and shade ; Away shall fade! Fire and lamp, and meat and bread ; And then to bed!