When Angus Ore, the wizard,
His fearsome wand will raise,
The night is filled with splendour,
And the north is all ablaze;
From clouds of raven blackness,
Like flames that leap on high—
All merrily dance the Nimble Men across the Northern Sky.

Now come the Merry Maidens,
All gowned in white and green,
While the bold and ruddy fellows
Will be flitting in between—
O to hear the fairy piper
Who will keep them tripping by!—
The men and maids who merrily dance across the Northern Sky.

O the weird and waesome music,
And the never-faltering feet!
O their fast and strong embraces,
And their kisses hot and sweet!
There's a lost and languished lover
With a fierce and jealous eye,
As merrily flit the Nimble Folk across the Northern Sky.

So now the dance is over,
And the dancers sink to rest—
There's a maid that has two lovers,
And there's one she loves the best;
He will cast him down before her,
She will raise him with a sigh—
Her love so bright who danced to-night across the Northern Sky.

Then up will leap the other,
And up will leap his clan—
O the lover and his company
Will fight them man to man—
All shrieking from the conflict
The merry maidens fly—
There's a Battle Royal raging now across the Northern Sky.

Through all the hours of darkness
The fearsome fight will last;
They are leaping white with anger,
And the blows are falling fast—
And where the slain have tumbled
A pool of blood will lie—
O it's dripping on the dark green stones from out the Northern Sky.

When yon lady seeks her lover
In the cold and pearly morn,
She will find that he has fallen
By the hand that she would scorn,—
She will clasp her arms about him,
And in her anguish die!—
O never again will trip the twain across the Northern Sky.