The maid of the mountain
Shall weep tears for thee,
And all sorrow and saddness
Shall harken to me,
To weep o’er graveside,
All flowers shall die;
For here ho doth lie noe,
For here he doth lie.

And the river shall weep now,
In lament for thee,
Remember the people
Who once died for thee;
Become the great oak tree
In mist shroud of sea;
‘Twas fated to lie here,
‘Twas fated to be.

Yet all tears should end now,
And stars again shine;
Believe in all new life,
Believe in all time;
And the sword too shall wield,
Bright flame in the sky;
‘Twas fated to lie here,
‘Twas fated to die.