"See! the white moon shines on high;
Whiter is my true love's shroud;
Whiter than the morning sky,
Whiter than the evening cloud.
My love is dead, &c.
"With my hands I'll fix the briars
Round her holy corse to gre (grow).
Elfin Faeries, light your fires;
Here my body still shall be.
My love is dead, &c.