It was the spring-time of the year,
When flowers were budding new,
And smiled like fond and trembling hopes,
Through morning's shining dew!
Yet fairer was the blushing cheek,
The blue eye brighter far,
That won the love of many a heart,
That sighed for Ellen Mar.

'Why joins not Ellen in the dance,
The village maiden's trip,
With rapture sparkling in her eye,
And smiling on her lip?'
A seeming stranger question'd thus,
All weary from the war,
'Ah! no, till Ronald Graeme return,
No joy for Ellen Mar.'

Down drops the cloak that wrapp'd his breast,
The cap that veiled his brow,
Rejoice thee, Ellen, for thou art
A happy maiden now.
The morning sun beheld them meet,
And evening's dewy star
Saw Ronald Graeme plight lasting truth
And love to Ellen Mar!