'twas not quite summertime out by the borderline
i stopped for thirst one day at a smith's along the way
and there by fireside was the brightest pair of emeald eyes
the belle of gretna green

her hair was golden brown if e'er one be so blest
black velvet was her gown, white lace upon her breast
a half crescent moon in silver on a golden chain
and so my heart was claimed

but she said she'd not be mine, for she'd soon be a bride
her man would soon arrive from the northumberland side
though it pleased not her clan that he be a highwayman
'twas safe in gretna green

i drank a sad farewell that night in starry spell
and as i bid goodbye the smith drew me aside
he said twas true enough that she be waiting for her love
'twas all in vain, in mind

ten years ago today, but seven miles away
the dragoons rode him down, 'neath blackford's oak h'was found
and no one to this day has had the heart to tell her his fate
that half crescent moon in his hand

and many the years have gone as i sing to you this song
she does not age at all and many for her they fall
and those of lonely bed can drink a toast to her instead
farewell my belle, my queen
the ghost of gretna green