Fair Mistland

I beg your indulgence, my lord, a moment please bear:
you've asked of my homeland far, the colors I wear.
Well, it's long I've been traveling from that sunny clime,
but her vision still stays by me through all of time,

I was only fifteen years old when I left my home;
the wanderlust strong in me, far lands I would roam,
but my road now grows weary and I fain would lie
`neath the bay trees that crown her hills and reach toward the sky.

Though I've passed through many realms, seen many grand sights,
from canyons of rainbow hue to the far northern lights,
I would trade all their splendor to once more be
where the morning mist cloaks the earth in soft mystery.