The lady's sorrowing part,
And silent walls, e'en more than words,
May wake the slumbering heart.
Ye, then, who mourn her gentle son,
Whelm'd in the fearful Strid,
Think on a mother's love, and shun
The paths her lips forbid!
The lady's sorrowing part,
And silent walls, e'en more than words,
May wake the slumbering heart.
Ye, then, who mourn her gentle son,
Whelm'd in the fearful Strid,
Think on a mother's love, and shun
The paths her lips forbid!