How often she has gazed from castle windows o’er
And watched the daylight passing within her captive wall
With no-one to heed her call.
The evening hour is fading within the dwindling sun
And in a lonely moment those embers will be gone
And the last of all the young birds flown.
Her days of precious freedomforfeited long before
To live such fruitless years behind a guarded door
But those days will last no more.
Tomorrow at this hour she will be far away
Much farther than these islands
Or the lonely fotheringay
