The morn was breaking bright and fair the lark sang in the sky
When the maid she bound her golden
Hair with a blithe glance in her eye
For who beyond the gay green wood was waiting her with joy
Oh who but gallant Renardine on the mountains of Pomeroy
Full often in the dawning hour, full oft in twilight brown
He met the maid in the woodland
Bower where the stream comes foaming down
For they were faithful and in love, no wars could e'er destroy
No tyrants law touched Renardine on the mountains of Pomeroy
'Dear love,' she said,
'I'm sore afraid for the foeman's force and you'
They've tracked you in the lowland's plain and all the valley through
My kinsmen frown when you are named; your life they would destroy
'Beware,' they say, 'of Renardine on the mountains of Pomeroy'
'Fear not, fear not,' he cried, 'my love, fear not the foe for me'
No chains shall fall what e'er betide on the arm that would be free
Oh leave your cruel kin and home where the lark sings in the sky
And it's with my life I will guard you on the mountains of Pomeroy
When the morn had come she rose and
Fled from her cruel kin and her home
And bright the wood and rosy red and the tumbling torrent's foam
But the mist came down and the tempest roared and all around destroyed
And a pale brown bride met Renardine on the mountains of Pomeroy
An outlawed man in a land forlorn he scorned to turn and fly
But he kept the cause of freedom safe upon the mountain high