But lang may her minny look o’er the wa’,
And lang may she seek i’ the green-wood shaw;
Lang the laird of Duneira blame,
And lang, lang greet or Kilmeny come hame!
When many a day had come and fled,
When grief grew calm, and hope was dead,
When mess for Kilmeny’s soul had been sung,
When the bedes-man had prayed, and the dead bell rung,
Late, late in a gloamin when all was still,
When the fringe was red on the westlin hill,