Isobel Campbell

There is a bird in Cachel Wood
As silver as I've seen
With mystery as a maiden's bed
With mystery as a dream
I dream to find my own true love
An everlasting fire
I'm perishing when leaves decay
'T would be heart's desire
Follow the burn to the sea
How my poor heart weeps for thee
Weeps for thee
Then nature sent my own true love
When apple blossom fell
He sang beneath the mighty oak
And courted me so well
He spoke the pleasures of the flesh
Of married life to come
I loved a man in Cachel Wood
'T was then I was so done
Follow the burn to the sea
How my poor heart weeps for thee
Weeps for thee
Follow the burn to the sea
How my poor weeps for thee
The berries on the Rowan tree
With child and in full bloom
He'd proved to be a false young man
A most unworthy groom
A fish swims in the ocean deep
A bird lives in the sky
And fleetingly they intertwine
And fleetingly they sigh
Follow the burn to the sea
How my poor heart weeps for thee
Weeps for thee
Follow the burn to the sea
How my poor weeps for thee