Charlotte Church
Voice Of An Angel
Y Gylfinir (the Curlew)
Your call is heard at noon
Like a flute of delight above the moor
Like a shepherd's whistle that is hidden< br/>Your call is heard at midnight
Until it is heard, when your sound is intense
Your invisible bark I know
Your flock is the bald long clouds
And your ready gun is the four winds
Court your moist flocks
To scatter them again on their way
In a carefree drive, a serious hand
Until the streams of heaven's pleasures
Your call is heard at high noon-day
A wistfull flute across the mere
As herdsman's whistle far away
Your call is heard at midnight clear
Then hear we, as you swell your keen
Barking afar, your hounds unseen
Your flocks the massive clouds of grey
And all four winds, your eager hounds
Awhile do pen them are they stray
And scattler once more out of bounds
A mute and restless drove on high
Amid the shieling of the sky