For in his stone cold tomb he lay,
The body of a king,
Beyond the night, beyond the day,
Beyond the call of spring.
And I pity her, his queen so fair,
For by his side she wept,
The elf with shadowd jet black hair,
Her beauty still she kept.
And in his wake, as our king died
Her death did take her too,
And my heart for her heart cried;
My King, she died with you.