Lost on Schihallion

Shepherd
Oh wherefore cam ye here, Ailie?
What has brocht you here?
Late and lane on this bleak muir and eerie,
A wild place this to be
For a body frail as ye,
Wi' the nicht and yon storm-clouds sae near ye.

Ailie
Oh dinna drive me back,
I canna leave my track,
Though nicht and the tempest should close o'er me.
The warld I've left behind,
And there's nocht I care to find
Save Schihallion and high heaven that are afore me.

Shepherd
Oh speak nae word o' driving,
But wherefore art thou striving
For the thing that canna be, puir Ailie?
Ye had better far return,
Where the peat-fires bienly burn,
And your friends wait ye down at Bohalie.

Ailie
The warld below is cauld and bare,
Up yonder's the place for prayer;
There the vision on my soul will break clearer,
My friends will little miss me,
And there's only One can bless me,
To Him on the hill-top I'll be nearer.

Shepherd
Schihallion's sides sae solid and steep,
And his snow-drifts heap on heap,
What mortal would dream the nicht o' scaling?
Gin the heart pray below,
From nae mountain-top will go
Your prayer to heaven with cry more prevailing.

Ailie
Weak am I and frail, I ken,
But there's might that's not of men
To bear me up — sae na mair entreat me;
Be the snow-drifts ne'er sae deep,
I have got a tryst to keep
Wi' the angels that up yonder wait to meet me.

The Shepherd home is gone,
And she went on alone;
Night cam, but she cam not to Bohalie;
They socht her west and east
Neist day and then the neist
On Schihallion's head they found puir Ailie.

Stiff with ice her limbs and hair,
And her hands fast closed in prayer,
And her white face to heaven meekly turning;
Down they bore her to her grave,
And they knew her soul was safe
In the home for which sae lang she had been yearning.