My love has gone to Avalon, the winter here's too cold As vanquished kings from fields of fog did in the days of old And as she moves through shimmering Climes and views the ancient stones I stand here on my hill, alone I did as much as I could do to bind my love to stay From Lothian to Tintagel's, a long and weary way No warlock Celt am I, to bind her fancy to my own I stand here on my hill, alone My city stands full in my gaze, a proud and empty shell A ruined chapel mocks the view above barren well An icy breeze from Greenland's coast, denies a futile sun I stand here on my hill, alone Perhaps I'll go to Westmorland, where hills are not so high Or make my way to Anglia, where lowland pastures lie A darkened town's no place of rest for one who saw it shine I stand here on my hill, alone My love has gone to Avalon, the winter here's too cold As vanquished kings from fields of fog did in the days of old And as she moves through shimmering Climes and views the ancient stones I stand here on my hill, alone