Wolf is what they call him,   But he rarly howls to the moon      He is but a foresaken star,   Lost amongst the Milk way      When good tidings bring him to me,   The drew drops run down my nose      Some day that all is lost,   I say all that is lost has not even begun      Someday the Mother Winter will show her strength once more,   But on that day I will emerge from the womb once again.