The Moon Was a-Waning Songtext
von The McCalmans

The moon was a-waning, the tempest was over
Fair was the maiden, and fond was the lover
But the snow was so deep that his heart it grew weary
And he sunk down to sleep in the moorland so dreary


Soft was the bed she had made for her lover
White were the sheets and embroidered the cover
But his sheets are more white and his canopy grander
And sounder he sleeps where the hill foxes wander

Alas, pretty maiden, what sorrows attend you
I see you sit shivering with lights at your window
But long may you wait ere your arms shall enclose him
For still, still he lies with a wreath on his bosom

How painful the task the sad tidings to tell you
An orphan you were ere this misery befell you
And far in yon wild where the dead-tapers hover
So cold, cold and wan lies the corpse of your lover