‘Twas on a winter’s ev’ning,
When first came down the snow,
O’er hills and lofty mountains
The stormy winds did blow;

A damsel she came tripping down
All in a drift of snow,
With a baby in her snow white arms
She knew not where to go.

“Hard hearted was my father
That shut the door on me,
And more so was my mother
For plainly she did see”

“That dark and stormy was the night,
It pierced my heart with cold.
And cruel was that false young man
That sold his love for gold.”

Unto a quiet grove she went
And there did she kneel down,
Turning her eyes to heaven,
In sorrow she made moan.

She kissed her baby’s cold, cold lips
And laid it by her side,
And in that silent Fanaid grove
In lonely grief she died.