Standard (EADGBE)

Pale was the wounded knight that bore the rowan shield

Loud and cruel were the raven's cries that feasted on the field

 Saying beck water cold and clear will never clean your wound

 There's none but the witch of the Westmorland can make thee hale and sound

 So turn, turn your stallion's head til his red mane flies in the wind

 And the rider of the moon goes by and the bright star falls behind

 And clear was the paley moon when his shadow passed him by

 Below the hills were the brightest stars when he heard the owlet cry

 Saying "Why do you ride this way, and wherefore came you here?"

 "I seek the Witch of the Westmorland who dwells by the winding mere"

 And it's weary by the Ullswater and the misty brake fern way

 Til through the cleft of the Kirkstone Pass the winding water lay

 He said "Lie down, my brindled hound, and rest ye, my good grey hawk"

 And thee, my steed, may graze thy fill for I must dismount and walk

 But come when you hear my horn and answer swift the call

 For I fear ere the sun will rise this morn ye will serve me best of all."

 And it's down to the water's brim he's born the rowan shield

 And the goldenrod he has cast in to see what the lake might yield

 And wet rose she from the lake, and fast and fleet went she

 One half the form of a maiden fair with a jet black mare's body

 And loud, long and shrill he blew til his steed was by his side

 High overhead the grey hawk flew and swiftly he did ride

 Say "Course well, my brindled hound, and fetch me the jet black mare

Stoop and strike, my good grey hawk, and bring me the maiden fair."

 She said "Pray, sheathe thy silvery sword. Lay down thy rowan shield

 For I see by the briny blood that flows you've been wounded in the field"

 And she stood in a gown of velvet blue, bound round with a silver chain

 and she's kissed his pale lips one and twice and three times round again

 And she's bound his wounds with the goldenrod, full fast in her arms he lay

 and he has risen hale and sound with the sun high in the day

 She said "Ride with your brindled hound at heel and your good grey hawk in hand

 There's none can harm the knight who's lain with the Witch of the Westmorland"