The fainting corps [ [1] ] of warriors lay,
Ne'er to arise again;
Ne'er to return to native land,
Nae mair, with blithesome sounds,
To boast the glories of the day,
And shaw their shining wounds.
On Norway's coast, the widowed dame
May wash the rock with tears,
May lang look o'er the shipless seas,
Before her mate appears.