silent oh moyle be the roar of thy water
break not ye breezes your chain of repose
while murmuring mournfully lir's lonely daughter
tell's to the night-star her tale of woes
when shall the swan her death-note singing
sleep with wings in darkness furl'd
when will heaven its sweet bell ringing
call my spirit from this stormy world
sadly oh moyle to thy winter-wave weeping
fate bids me languish long ages away