She was fair as a maid could be In love with a young man Bound to serve his King Wounded in battle he tried to return They say the last steps that he took Were walking back to her
They say she roamed these hills in search of him Driven by a grief that knows no end And where each seed of sorrow falls a tiny flower appears And the winding heather on the moors marks the trail of her tears
She vowed to find where her true love lay For years she searched these barren hills in vain The night she died they saw her A spirit in the mist And blooms came forth as she wept For his final kiss
Her ghost still roams these hills in search of him Driven by a grief that knows no end And where each seed of sorrow falls a tiny flower appears And the winding heather on the moors marks the trail of her tears And the winding heather on the moors marks the trail of her tears