Melancthe - Shine Dion

A winter day

With cold white light

A child was born

So fair a sight

But as she grew

It was to be known

That on this child

A curse was thrown

She never uttered

Word nor sound

To walk in silence

She was bound

One day alone

A strange bird sang

To lift the curse

This must be done

First you must find

An axe of gold

Then an apple

That never grows old

Last you must find

The water of life

That quenches the thirst

And heals all strife

For seven years

She wandered in pain

And all her efforts

Ended in vain

The by a lake

One morning clear

She saw herself

And lost all fear

The golden axe

Is my courage and will

The apple my heart

That never grows chill

The water of life

Is the gift to give

It strengthens the soul

And the joy to live

So ends the tale

Of the maiden who longed

And lifted the curse

And made her song