The morn was breaking bright and fair the lark sang in the sky When the maid she bound her golden Hair with a blithe glance in her eye For who beyond the gay green wood was waiting her with joy Oh who but gallant Renardine on the mountains of Pomeroy Full often in the dawning hour, full oft in twilight brown He met the maid in the woodland Bower where the stream comes foaming down For they were faithful and in love, no wars could e'er destroy No tyrants law touched Renardine on the mountains of Pomeroy 'Dear love,' she said, 'I'm sore afraid for the foeman's force and you' They've tracked you in the lowland's plain and all the valley through My kinsmen frown when you are named; your life they would destroy 'Beware,' they say, 'of Renardine on the mountains of Pomeroy' 'Fear not, fear not,' he cried, 'my love, fear not the foe for me' No chains shall fall what e'er betide on the arm that would be free Oh leave your cruel kin and home where the lark sings in the sky And it's with my life I will guard you on the mountains of Pomeroy When the morn had come she rose and Fled from her cruel kin and her home And bright the wood and rosy red and the tumbling torrent's foam But the mist came down and the tempest roared and all around destroyed And a pale brown bride met Renardine on the mountains of Pomeroy An outlawed man in a land forlorn he scorned to turn and fly But he kept the cause of freedom safe upon the mountain high