The lad who went to Flanders 
Otterburn, Otterburn 
The lad who went to Flanders, 
And never will return 

Though low he lies in Flanders, 
Beneath the Flemish mud, 
He hears through all his dreaming 
The Otterburn in flood. 

And though there be in Flanders 
No clear and singing streams, 
The Otterburn runs singing 
Of summer through his dreams. 

And when peace comes to Flanders, 
Because it comes too late, 
He'll still lie there, and listen 
To the Otterburn in spate 

The lad who went to Flanders 
Otterburn, Otterburn 
The lad who went to Flanders, 
And never will return.