Two island swans, they mated for life and his
faithful heart would not consider any other wife.
For three years of peaceful joy with the rushes of
the pond, proud and gentle was the love of
the last two island swans. Their love was like a
circle with no beginning and no end, with his lady
by his side, a treasure and best friend. And the
pond was oh so peaceful with the rising of the
sun. Young and free as the island breeze, their
lives had just begun. Till a dark day in
November, with the searing cold that starts,
stalked a hunter with his bow and put an arrow
through her heart. "Oh, husband come to my
side and let your feathers warm my pain, for I
feel I will not spend another day with you again."

Chorus: And the cold winds blow. He was brave
but he lay low. By her body in the isle of mist,
I saw her give him one last cold kiss. Cold . . .

Now swans, like people, talk of only one in this
fair tide. Though they brought him twenty ladies,
he would take no other bride. And they say he
will not move from the place where she did fall,
Once so proud, he's beaten now and he will not
rise at all.
Chorus.