The Grey Bridge of Tavrobel

‘O! tell me, little damozelle,
Why smile you in the gloaming
On the old grey bridge of Tavrobel
As the grey folk come a-homing?’

‘I smile because you come to me
O’er the grey bridge in the gloaming:
I have waited, waited, wearily
To see you come a-homing.

In Tavrobel things go but ill,
And my little garden withers
In Tavrobel beneath the hill,
While you’re beyond the rivers.’

‘Ay, long and long I have been away
O’er sea and land and river
Dreaming always of the day
Of my returning hither.’