She wore the guise of a winter squallnBlowing through my empty hall,nWith rime on window, frost on sill,nAnd icicle on gable bell.nnThen she wore the guise of fallow doe,nAs great with young as she could go.nThen she turned to me, then turned to go,nLeaving footprints in the snow.nnBut when a man's in love he feels no cold,nwhen a man's in love he feels no cold.nWhen a man's in love he feels no cold,nWhen a man's in love he feels no cold.nnSo bake for us the bridal bread,nAnd brew the bridal beer, oh.nAnd make for us the bridal bed,nAnd we will disappear, oh.nnAnd farewell to the Clyde water,nThe gently flowing river.nMy love and I are going away,nAlthough we know not whither.nnWhen a man's in love he feels no cold,nWhen a man's in love he feels no cold.nnSo bake for us the bridal bread,nAnd brew the bridal beer, oh.nAnd make for us the bridal bed,nAnd we will disappear, oh.nnAnd farewell to the Clyde water,nThe gently flowing river.nMy love and I are going away,nAlthough we know not whither.nnMy love and I are going away,nAlthough we know not whither.