A northern lament

There's a mist upon the mountains

And a shadow in the glen,

And among the purple heather

The tramp of armed men.

Waly, waly, hear the pibroch calling

By the lonely shore,

Waly, waly, well I know

My lad will come to me no more.

There's a stream of banners floating

And a glint of rankèd spears,

And a sound of many waters

To still the flow of tears.

Waly, waly, hear the pibroch calling

By the lonely shore,

Waly, waly, well I know

My lad will come to me no more.