I gave it away to a love-lorn maid
Who wept, for her heart was free;
And lo, when this stone in her breast was laid,
She grew passing fair to see!
And a knight rode by, and he knelt and prayed,
"For thy beauty life were freely paid -
Now what wilt thou give to me?"
"Sir Knight, I have naught!" laughed she,
"Sir Knight, I have naught for thee!"
But still at her feet, as he made his moan,
From out her bosom she drew the stone;
And that knight rode forth - but he rode alone,
And he laughed, for his heart was free!
And they buried a maiden all skin and bone;

And so it befell,
At the toll of the bell,
At the toll of the bell,
This stone had come back to me.
And anon it sped over sea and land,
It journeyed o'er land and sea,
It hath lodged in many a fair maid's hand -
Yet it ever comes back to me.
It ever comes back to me.


Then it passed to a miser of grisly hue,
With a beard that fell to his knee;
And he cuddled his gold, yet he fain would woo
A lady of high degree!
And he laughed when he saw how fair he grew -
Yet ever she sighed as he came to sue,
"Nay, what wilt thou give to me?"
"Rich gems have I none," groaned he,
"I have naught but my love for thee!"
And at night, as he lay and dreamed of gold,
She drew from his gaberdine's innermost fold
Drew this glittering stone - and his heart grew cold;
But she laughed, for her heart was free!
And they buried a miser withered and old;

And so it befell,
At the toll of the bell,
This stone had come back to me.
This stone had come back to me.
And anon it sped over sea and land,
It journeyed o'er land and sea,
It hath lodged in many a withered hand -
Yet it always comes back to me.
It always comes back to me.