the cauld blae north was streaming forth

her lights, wi' hissing, eerie din,

athort the lift they start and shift,

like fortune's favours, tint as win.

a lassie all alone, c.

now, looking over firth and fauld,

her horn the pale-faced cynthia rear'd,

when lo! in form of minstrel auld,

a stern and stalwart ghaist appear'd.

a lassie all alone, c.

and frae his harp sic strains did flow,

might rous'd the slumbering dead to hear;

but oh, it was a tale of woe,

as ever met a briton's ear!

a lassie all alone, c.

he sang wi' joy his former day,

he, weeping, wail'd his latter times;

but what he said—it was nae play,

i winna venture't in my rhymes.

a lassie all alone, c.