Lonely path across the marshland
Leads to a forlorn grey lodge
Grey like the misery
Empty, abandoned
For the lone dweller is now gone

Ailment and poverty was her lot
Only guest ever the nightly frost that crept inside
Brief were the moments of bliss and gladness
For on this hoar peatland no joy will live

And bells they toll
In cold morning light

Once there was a fleeting time
When sky was less dark for a while
And the one that she adored
Walked her across the churchyard

Flowers bloomed and bells they tolled
Hopeful was the spring's tone
But on this barren marshland
No gladness will ever last

Here the nightly frost will creep inside the hearts
Here the brittle flowers will die before their time
And soon came the day, when bells they tolled again
For her dearest one, beneath the stones now lies
Under the churchyard sleeps