The sun that shines o'er Mochrum Hill is vain
For all the joys of Summer are not true,
Because her laughing eyes are filled with pain.

Her voice falls softly like a Summer rain
With all the tenderness of morning dew;
The sun that shines o'er Mochrum Hill is vain.

The thrush and blackbird sing a sweet refrain
And every gentle breeze is fresh and new,
Yet still her laughing eyes are filled with pain.

The shadows sprawl in every ancient lane
'Neath awesome skies of azure melting blue,
But still the sun o'er Mochrum Hill is vain.

As streamlets dance by yellow fields of grain,
Sharing sadness with all who come in view;
They see her laughing eyes still filled with pain.

That sudden death which left her world in stain
Will now rely on nature to renew.
The sun that shines o'er Mochrum Hill is vain;
And still her laughing eyes are filled with pain.