New Traditions

Maid from the Misty Mountainside

Linda Connell Studley
Linda Studley


There's a back story to this song, but I prefer to let the reader imagine their own; it's more fun that way!


The moon lay hid ‘neath the darkling clouds

The mist crept down the mountainside

When the sentry heard soft footsteps fall

“Who goes there?” He cried.

“Who goes there in the dark of night?” He cried

“Who dares to stalk our brave brigade?”

“Reveal yourself. You cannot hide.

From the Sentry or his blade.”

The moon slipped out from behind a cloud

And limned the night like a ghostly dream

Out of the mist stepped a maiden pale

Tears in her eyes did gleam

“Oh sir, “ she whispered soft and low.

“You do me wrong to scold me so.

I have buried my sweetheart who died this night

and can’t find my way back home.”

Pity touched the sentry’s heart

For the maid of the misty mountainside.

“Grieve not,” said he, “for your hero fall’n

At least he was on the right side.”

Well, the night it was still but the maiden’s hair

Streamed and tossed in a ghostly gale.

A haunting smile flit across her face

As she lifted her hand ‘cross the pale.

The sentry reached out to take the hand

Of the maid from the misty mountainside.

Her touch was ice that burned like fire

 “What is this madness?” He cried.

The maid stepped close and the sentry heard

Her whispered words before he died.

“I told you my sweetheart died on this night

But I never said on which side.”

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My First Two CDs


Linda Connell Studley: Breathe

New Traditions

Linda Connell Studley: New Traditions