Down in the dells where the soft rivers sighed, And the hearth-smoke curled warm to the skies, There danced little feet on the green hollow hills, And the Hollowmere laughed with their cries. But oh, Hollowmere, Hollowmere, fade into mist and dream, Your fields are drowned, your songs unwound, Forgotten by stream and by stream. Hollowmere, Hollowmere, weep for the hearts left there — For the hearths gone cold, for the tales untold, And the names that vanish like air. The black banners came on a night choked with dread, The stars hid their faces away; The brave and the broken, the young and the old, Were scattered like leaves in the fray. Oh, Hollowmere, Hollowmere, fade into mist and dream, Your fields are drowned, your songs unwound, Forgotten by stream and by stream. Hollowmere, Hollowmere, weep for the hearts left there — For the hearths gone cold, for the tales untold, And the names that vanish like air. A maiden still waits where the mist never clears, Her voice is the wind through the reeds; She calls out her name to the sorrowful skies, But none come to answer her pleas. Hollowmere, Hollowmere, sink 'neath the silver tide, The bells are still, on the drowning hill, And the dreamers are lost to the tide. Hollowmere... Hollowmere... Gone with the turning of time.
