Far away upon the hills,
A snow white forest waits until
The sun rises over the woods.
But it is shrouded by a black hood.

Alone in the dark night
Lies the queen of white,
Pure and radiant in the snow
Anointed in a soft glow.

Fair skinned maiden in the chill,
She does lie quite still.
But, in the dawn
Comes the white swan.

It is she in the light,
A new day, a new plight.
Singing gently the song to love
In the voice of the mourning dove.

Death comes as a skill
To those who can kill.
The king has fallen to him
Leaving the queen to sing her hymn.

Come to the faerie's in delight
And sing a song of sight.
The vision shall be strong
And so shall the song.