She is far from the land where her young hero sleepsnWhile around her sweet lovers are sighingnBut coldly she turns from their wooings and weepsnFor her heart with his cold grave is lyingnnShe sings the wild songs of her own native homenEvery note which he so loved awakingnAh but little they think who delight in her tonesnHow the heart of this young girl is breakingnnThough he lived for his love it's for his country he diednThey were all that to life had entwined himnThe tears of his country may never be driednNor long will his love stay behind himnnSo make her a grave where the sun goes to restnAnd think on a glorious tomorrownMay it shine on her sleep like a smile from the WestnFrom her own lovely Island of Sorrows