Neither one waiting at the bend

Neither one waiting at the bend

Nor stationed upon the hill

Was present to make offense

Or entertain some evil will.

A breeze came, another went -

Rattling the bursages

As a creeping serpent

Going into hiding does.

If I died right here -

How many lonesome clouds -

How many foraging birds

Would pass by before I was found?

Would the beloved sun

Care to kiss me good-bye?

Would the angels of the canyon

Guide me on my flight?