Will-o-the-wisp

Oh, I bid thee well traveler 

For as you voyage in days of yore 

Be wary of those who tarry 

Outside the trodden path

For once you stray 

You'll never stay 

As you chase the foolish fire

Over silent silver crests 

And yet when the new morn comes

The foolish fires fades away 

Only to sing again at eves pure light 

Who would wish for a golden dawn?