"The snow has ceased, the wind has hushed,
The moon shines fair and clear,
The night is drawing on apace,
Yet Evan is not here.
"The deer is couched among the fern,
The bird sleeps on the tree;
O what can keep my only son,
He bides so long from me?"
"O mother, come and take your rest,
Since Evan stays so late;
If we leave the door unbarred for him,
What need to sit and wait?"
"Now hold your peace, my daughter,
Be still and let me be,
I will not seek my bed this night
Until my son I see."
And she has left the door unbarred,
And by the fire sat still;
She drew her mantle her about
As the winter night grew chill.
The moon had set beyond the moor,
And half the night had gone,
When standing silent by her side
She saw Evan her son.
"I did not hear your step, Evan,
Nor hear you lift the pin."
"I would not wake my sister, mother,
So softly I came in."
"Now sit ye down and rest, Evan,
And I will give you meat."
"I have been with my cousin John, mother,
And he gave me to eat."
"Then have ye laid the quarrel by
That was 'twixt him and you,
And given each other pledge of faith
Ye will be friends anew?"
"We have laid the quarrel by, mother,
Forevermore to sleep,
And he has given me his knife,
As pledge of faith to keep."
"O is it blood or is it rust
That makes the knife so red,
Or is it but the red firelight
That's shining on the blade?"
"No rust is on the blade, mother,
Nor the firelight's ruddy hue;
The bright blood ran upon the knife
To seal our compact true."
"O is it with the pale gray gleam
That comes before the dawn,
Or are ye weary with the road
That ye look so ghastly wan?"
"A long and weary road, mother,
I fared to reach my home,
And I must get me to my bed
That waits for me to come."
"The night is bitter cold, Evan,
See that your bed be warm,
And take your plaid to cover you,
Lest the cold should do you harm."
"Yes, cold, cold is the night, mother,
Yet soundly do I rest,
With the bleak North wind to cover me,
And the snow white on my breast."