Otterburn

The lad who went to Flanders

Otterburn, Otterburn

The lad who went to Flanders,

And never will return

Though low he lies in Flanders,

Beneath the Flemish mud,

He hears through all his dreaming

The Otterburn in flood.

And though there be in Flanders

No clear and singing streams,

The Otterburn runs singing

Of summer through his dreams.

And when peace comes to Flanders,

Because it comes too late,

He'll still lie there, and listen

To the Otterburn in spate

The lad who went to Flanders

Otterburn, Otterburn

The lad who went to Flanders,

And never will return.