Today the deep snow fall
Last night a sharp frost
Oh the young lambs are living
But the old sheep are lost
Oh rise you my shepherds
And away to the hill
For the old sheep are dying
And the snows falling still
The master of Raby
Lay sick on his bed
With the cry of lost ewes
Lighting a fire in his head
Oh arise you my shepherds
And away on the hill
For the old sheep are dying
And the snows falling still
Said the master of Raby
I am sick and alone
My sheep cry for succor
My men yield them none
Oh arise you my shepherds
And away to the hill
For the old sheep are dying
And the snows falling still
I have sheep in the Laggan
I have goats at Clieau Rea
At the cliffs of Coan-y-Christey
My ewes go astray
Oh arise you my shepherds
And away to the hill
For the old sheep are dying
And the snows falling still
Then out went the shepherds
In darkness and dread
And high on the mountain
They found the sheep dead
The whole flock lay smother
In a drift on the hills
And over their bodies
The snow gathered still
Said the master of Raby
My sheep cry in vain
And while I lay helpless
None headed my pain
And so they all perished
For want of your skill
And over their bodies
The snow gathered still