Don Quixote, ©1972 by Gordon Lightfoot Through the woodland, through the valley Comes a horseman wild and free Tilting at the windmills passing Who can the brave young horseman be He is wild but he is mellow He is strong but he is weak He is cruel but he is gentle He is wise but he is meek Reaching for his saddlebag He takes a battered book into his hand Standing like a prophet bold He shouts across the ocean to the shore 'Til he can shout no more I have come o'er moor and mountain Like the hawk upon the wing I was once a shining knight Who was the guardian of a king I have searched the whole world over Looking for a place to sleep I have seen the strong survive And I have seen the lean grow weak See the children of the earth Who wake to find the table bare See the gentry in the country Riding off to take the air Reaching for his saddlebag He takes a rusty sword into his hand Then striking up a knightly pose He shouts across the ocean to the shore 'Til he can shout no more See the jailer with his key Who locks away all trace of sin See the judge upon the bench Who tries the case as best he can See the wise and wicked ones Who feed upon life's sacred fire See the soldier with his gun Who must be dead to be admired See the man who tips the needle See the man who buys and sells See the man who puts the collar On the ones who dare not tell See the drunkard in the tavern Stemming gold to make ends meet See the youth in ghetto black Condemned to life upon the street Reaching for his saddlebag He takes a tarnished cross into his hand Then standing like a preacher now He shouts across the ocean to the shore Then in a blaze of tangled hooves He gallops off across the dusty plain In vain to search again Where no one will hear Through the woodland, through the valley Comes a horseman wild and free Tilting at the windmills passing Who can the brave young horseman be He is wild but he is mellow He is strong but he is weak He is cruel but he is gentle He is wise but he is meek