A lover of a moorland bare
And honest country winds they were
The silver skimming rain they took
And loved the floodings of the brook

Dew frost mountains, fire and sea
Tumultuary silences
Winds in darkness fifed a tune
In the high riding virgin moon

In our ungenial native north
You put your frosted wildlings forth
And on the heath afar from man
A strong and bitter virgin ran

Dew frost mountains, fire and sea
Tumultuary silences
Winds in darkness fifed a tune
In the high riding virgin moon

Around you still the curlew sings
The freshness of the weather clings
The maiden jewels of the rain
Sit in your dabbled locks again
Sit in your dabbled locks again