Far in the nicht whan faint the müne
My love knock't at the door
He spak nae word as he walkit in
And wi' nae sound stepp't owre
White was his face in the thin licht
And white his hands and feet
Like snaw, that in itsel is bricht
White was his winding-sheet
He look't on me wi' sichtless e'en
And yet his e'en were kind
And a' the joys that we had taen
Thrang'd up into my mind
And for the whilie he was near
Glimmerin in the gloom
I thocht the hale o' the world was there
Sae sma' in a sma' room