Up the airy mountain
Down [bad word] glen,
Bridget walks a-chanting
Not heeding little men;

By the craggy hill-side,
Through the mosses bare,
They have planted thorn trees
For pleasure here and there.

 [bad word] stealing people
On cold starry nights,
Make them sup with Queen
And drink forgetfulness.

Bridget stepped the circle
seven years long;
When she came down again
Her friends were all gone.

Sa tao fiose,
Ale-ar, ale-ar, ale-ar
Sa fols intolio-o
Ale-ar, ale-ar

Down along willowy banks
Bridget’s new home,
Scarlet berries, crispy pancakes
Of yellow tide-foam;

Some in the reeds
Of the black mountain-lake,
With frogs for their watch-dogs,
All night awake.

They took her lightly back
Between the night and morrow;
They thought she was fast asleep,
But she was dead with sorrow.

They have kept her ever since
Deep within the lake,
On a bed of fled leaves,
Waiting till she wakes.

Will she ever wake? - No!
Will she ever wake? - No!
Will she ever wake? - No!

Faeries stole Bridget...