Oh! weep for the hour,

    When to Eveleen's bower

The Lord of the Valley with false vows came;

    The moon hid her light

    From the heavens that night.

And wept behind her clouds o'er the maiden's shame.

    The clouds past soon

    From the chaste cold moon,

And heaven smiled again with her vestal flame:

    But none will see the day,

    When the clouds shall pass away,

Which that dark hour left upon Eveleen's fame.

    The white snow lay

    On the narrow path-way,

When the Lord of the Valley crost over the moor;

    And many a deep print

    On the white snow's tint

Showed the track of his footstep to Eveleen's door.

    The next sun's ray

    Soon melted away

Every trace on the path where the false Lord came;

    But there's a light above,

    Which alone can remove

That stain upon the snow of fair Eveleen's fame.