I smoothed her hair, and I sang a song,
And on my knee I rocked her long:
‘O mother, mother, sing low to me;
I am sleepy now, and I cannot see!’
I kissed her, but I could not weep, 35
And she went to sleep, she went to sleep.
As we lay asleep, as we lay asleep,
My May and I, in our grave so deep,
As we lay asleep in the midnight mirk,
Under the shade of Our Lady’s Kirk, 40