I made my way through the tumbled stones

Away from the wind that froze my bones,

Seeking shelter down the dale

In the valley of the infant Swale..

I followed the stone, the thread I held,

But found no lodging up in Keld,

By the waterfall and the old lead mine

I rambled through the evening time.

Above the moors and the miners shale,

The throaty music of the Swale;

Through a summer's evening I was led,

By the babbling tune of the riverbed.

A summer's dram, a fairy ring,

A frothy beck where the waters sing,

By the big flat stones on the river floor,

I met an old man by a cottage door....