A lady runs across the Old Mill Moor, a dreadful song was singing By the darkness of that now new moon, to her lover's guise was tightly clinging Oh go run, go run your troubles down, go run down to the water By the city fair and the ocean fierce, a lady does not often falter There runs she now by the ‘Sconset rose, there runs she now a'bleeding And a trail is kept by the way she moves, to her lover's touch is dire needing Although starched your apron may now be, it'll lose its shape in the water But go swimmeth thee to the anchor most near, a lady does not often falter Oh the winds they blow and the tide she swells, brings life unto the beaches Oh that seem between the Earth and Tide, from land that sea is not quite as wide Oh the winds they blow and the tide she swells, breathes life into the tall pines Without her breath lies the world so still, but with, that constant shoreline A lady runs across the Old Mill Moor, and Heaven's bells were tolling By the sadness of that silent tune, and the sea kept on gently rolling