The stars are shining
cheerily, cheerily
Horo, Mhairi dhu, turn ye to me.
The sea mew's moaning drearily, drearily
Horo, Mhairi dhu, turn ye to me.
Cold is the stormwind that ruffles the breast
But warm are the downy plumes lining its nest
Cold blows the storm there
Soft falls the snow there
Horo, Mhairi dhu, turn ye to me.
The waves are dancing merrily, merrily
Horo, Mhairi dhu, turn ye to me.
The seabirds are wailing wearily, wearily
Horo, Mhairi dhu, turn ye to me.
Hushed be thy moaning, lone bird of the sea
Thy home on the rocks is a shelter to thee
Thy home is the angry wave
Mine but the lonely grave
Horo, Mhairi dhu, turn ye to me. |