Blae, blae, blae, is the dwinin simmer
Fin craws are a squallich o midnicht i the lift
The win that knells the aik is an eildritch drummer
Garrin the fleggit leaves uptail an shift

Wylin the wing frae cloud, the girse frae dyke
Autumn’s at haun, the tarry-fingeret tyke
The warlock, turnin the widlan reid an rent
A sairer scythe in his Sizzen isna kent.

Cauld, cauld, cauld, he’s a wirthless wooer
Preein the bloom frae brae, the hairt frae howe
Trystin awa the bonnie buskit flooer
Bird an berry an breet frae the ferny knowe.

The screich o his loadit cairt on a pairtin stane
Sma wis the whyle he bedd, wi the yird his bride
Forhooied, her days staun dreich, her nichts hing teem
The lan bled fite, like an auld love cast aside.

Syne, fin the yalla strae be a deid yestreen
Dwined an dweeble, laigh i the park sae bare
The oat, the barley-heid wi the guid corn taen
The wanton Autumn’s seen i the warld nae mair.