Turn Ye to Me
The stars are shining cheerily, cheerily,
Ho ro, Mhairi dhu, turn ye to me;
The sea mew is moaning drearily, drearily,
Ho ro, Mhairi dhu, turn ye to me.
Cold is the storm wind that ruffles his breast
But warm are the downy plumes lining his nest.
Cold blows the storm there, soft falls the snow there,
Ho ro, Mhairi dhu, turn ye to me.
The waves are dancing merrily, merrily,
Ho ro, Mhairi dhu, turn ye to me;
The sea birds are wailing wearily, wearily
Ho ro, Mhairi dhu, turn ye to me.
Hush 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,
Ho ro, Mhairi dhu, turn ye to me.
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