her lights, wi' hissing, eerie din,

athort the lift they start and shift,

like fortune's favours, tint as win.

assie 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.

assie 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!

assie all alone, c.

he sang wi' joy his former day,

he, weeping, wail'd histter times;

but what he said—it was nae y,

i winna venture't in my rhymes.

assie all alone, c.