By Seven Pikes to Blackmoor Skirt
And so to Sundaysight
Is a rough road for travelling
For him who walks by night.

In rain or snow for seven years
Each night he took the track
That he might see a window-light,
And ere the dawn walked back.

By moon or stars to Sundaysight
He came to ease his mind
In gazing on a glowing pane
And the shadow on the blind.

He never spoke to her by day,
Who could not be his wife,
And naught she ever knew of him
Who loved her more than life.

'Twixt Sundaysight and Seven Pikes
A man may come to hurt;
And with a broken neck he lay
One dawn on Blackmoor Skirt.

By Seven Pikes to Blackmoor Skirt
And so to Sundaysight
Is a rough road for travelling,
But ghosts can travel light.