O none may share the sorrow,
And none may break the spell,
For I ha' crost the weird water
An' drunk o' Weeping Well.

And I ha' plukt the bitter fruit
Of Elfinland forlorn,
An' spoke wi' the wan woman
Beneath the twisted thorn.

An' I ha' bought dark wisdom
For the heart within me sold,
An' I ha' gi'en my livin' soul
For a mint o' fairy gold.

The stream runs on i' the old way,
The birds sing on the trees,
An' the sun shines on the hill side,
But I know nought of these.

There is no man dare speak wi' me,
No home where I may dwell,
For I ha' crost the weird water
An' drunk o' Weepin' Well.