Sir Quietly is standing
So dark behind the wall
All the time is listening
To the others down the hall
Sir Noisily is shouting
Lady Lovely does cry
The other knights are jousting
Maybe he'll be apt to try
This is the morn of Autumn
Dew collects in his eyes
Even in this solemn
Inner music fills the skies
Oh! Lo!
He cannot go!
Fingering solitude's lance
Forgetting stolen glances
Luck plays in her chance
"There will be other chances."
The other knights are jousting
Maybe he'll be apt to try
This is the morn of Autumn
Dew collects in his eyes
Came to the castle from far
Minstrel of a wandering sort
Long hair the color of tar
Smile that would contort
She had but one possession
Divine prospecting lute
Told but one confession
"T'was a bitter brute."
Sang aloft to all
Sir Quietly did call
The other knights are jousting
Maybe he'll be apt to try
This is the morn of Autumn
Dew collects in his eyes
Seeing words in the air
Always listening as shadows do
Finally he did not care
"Not time to know what's true."
Mounted the castle wall
Steadied himself too
"I can speak!" he did call
Not a soul he looked to
Luck plays in her chance
"This is the best of chances."
