Sitting beside a mossy cascade
Watching the water’s escapade
His thoughts go swiftly, flowing fast
Lamenting the shadows of his haunted past.

And on the crests of mountains high
Forever echoes his lonely cry
The sorrow and joy, loss and pain,
The cares of the journey that gave him his name.

The traveler of the wild skies,
Below which he so easily flies,
The lonesome hunter of the wild fens,
Forever he calls, again and again.

Howling his feelings to the moon,
Feeling the coming of changes soon,
The roaming wolf upon a rocky shoal
Traveling the forests as wild as his soul.