The stars are burning cheerily, cheerily, Horo Mhairi dhu, turn ye to me
The sea mew is moaning drearily, drearily, Horo Mhairi dhu, turn ye to me
Cold is the storm wind that ruffles his breast but soft are the downy plumes lining his nest
Cold blows the storm then, 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 sea birds are wailing wearily, wearily, Horo Mhairi dhu, turn ye to me
Hushed be thy moaning loan bird of the sea, thy home on the rocks is a shelter to thee
Thy house the angry wave, mine but the lonely grave, Horo Mhairi dhu, turn ye to me.