I heard a curlew crying loud
on a moor where wild winds blew,
and the sound of his sad lonesome song
made me feel lonesome too.
Cold winter came and the moorland froze
the winds howl’d loud and long
and often echoed through the snows
I heard that curlew’s song.
Sweet sun-warm’d summer came along
from green-leaf’d days of Spring,
I soon forgot the lonesome song
I heard the curlew sing.