Timo Vikkula - Roundelay lyrics

O SING unto my roundelay O drop the briny tear with me; Dance no more at holyday Like a running river be: My love is dead Gone to his d**h-bed All under the willow-tree Sweet his tongue as the throstle's note Quick in dance as thought can be Deft his tabor, cudgel stout; O he lies by the willow-tree! My love is dead Gone to his d**h-bed All under the willow-tree Hark! the raven flaps his wing In the brier'd dell below; Hark! the d**h-owl loud doth sing To the nightmares, as they go: My love is dead Gone to his d**h-bed All under the willow-tree See! the white moon shines on high; Whiter is my true-love's shroud: Whiter than the morning sky Whiter than the evening cloud: My love is dead Gone to his d**h-bed All under the willow-tree