The tangled wood, it wasn't good, it wasn't good
The shadowy priest was there
And the serfs in their coloured hoods
A tawny owl with a haunting stare
The ghost of the wood
The declaration of intent
The declaration of the money spent
This summer's night was warm and bright, warm and bright
But then the prisoner there, so alone, so cold, so white
And as the flags unfolded, the jury came in sight
The people all cheered as the judge began
The hangman was waiting and the priеst was at hand
And then the clouds came down and covеred the moon
Saw the child proceeding in a twilight state of gloom
But they marched him to his fate
All his protests were too late
Then the priest said "Should we wait?"
The tangled wood, it wasn't good, it wasn't good
The shadowy priest looked up
With the serfs in their coloured hoods
To the tawny owl with the haunting stare
The ghost of the wood
The Midnight Hanging of a Runaway Serf was written by Welham.