As mists of the evening creep over the hill
And the sea round about her is silent and still
Forbidden dark island so dreary and cold
What mysterious tales can your black rocks unfold
While fishermen row past your dark ocean shore
And old wives are spinning and praying once more
No falsehood to dread no malice you hold
You are sworn to your secrets of stories untold The old men will tell not a bird or a nest
At times not a seabird will stop there to rest
But you lie there in mist and cold watery waves
No harm is yet spoken no evil you show
Tis sacred you stand to folks long ago
No curses come from you or to you are shown
Just a lonely dark island a mysterious throne
But tho' they've not seen they'll tell what they know
Of kings and of princes who died long ago
Who rest in your coves and still to this day
They are seen in your shadows and thru the sea spray
So toast to yon mountains and summits of blue
And here's to the glens and the meadows of dew
It's not of these hills or valleys I dream
But the lonely dark island the home of the kings |