There was a man with a blind eye, blessed on the grave of a northern queen,
He could see through time, as other men see to the bed of a silvering stream.
He could see with the word unsaid to the mind of another man's name, And if you should talk or ridicule, he would turn your words to flame.
Ride, Lord Seaforth ride,
Spare your horse no time.
Can you tell me Coinneach Odhar of the fourteen penny land,
The day will come when the hills of Ross shall be strewn with ribbons round.
Can you see my labourer, from the fields of Castle Brahan?
The day will come when ships will sail round Tomnahurich land.
Isabella, she stepped up for to hear the Lord Seaforth,
Was away to France afraid for him and the dangers may befall
The lord, his love for you was true, I see in La Sorbonne,
His hand and heart in company of the young Parisienne.
You speak so ill of dignities, the mighty of the land,
Your words are twisted ivy stems grown slanderously high.
Payment I'll bestow on you both fearful and wild,
There burns a barrel full of tar black as the blackest isle.
The Lord riding home from France was greeted by the tale.
Smoke from Chanonry rising fast in a cruel and violent veil,
He rode his horse as any moved on broken land,
But he was too late to change the fate of the seer from Castle Brahan.