I used to sing that song, by Mike Raven, with my own folk group here in Spain. That was ages ago in a time when nobody seemed to care if the words made sense or not (very few could understand them, anyway). What WE USED TO SING was:
Here I dreamt of the old grey tree
sticks so bare and woe is me.
Ofttimes in the night I sigh
Where is the Queen of the Night? I cry.
Silks and satins does she wear
gold and diamonds in her hair
she is the Queen of the Nignt so fair.
Crackles of frost in the autumn sky
see the blackbird oh so shy.
To the hell or heaven I'll go
There is no peace in the ground below.
She has charmed and torn my soul
Ragéd the fire with golden coals
I care not if I live or die
where is the Queen of the Night I cry?
Give me a shroud of tangier hue
Tell tall Arabs of noble brood
Set them each with a silver spade,
dig for me the deepest grave.
Fabulous music, a lot of choral possibilities. We used to make the last verse a capella.