Twixt Portpatrick and Ardwell bay br In the south Rhins of Galloway br There is a cave, weel hid away br Upon a rocky shore. br br Doon thru the hawthorn, gorse and whun br A weel trod path does wind and run br It’s there Will Purvis chose to shun br The world o’ money lore. br br His face was known in every town br As a travellin’, smiling clown: br Twas then he chose to settle down br In 1894. br br His comfort was a seat and bed br To rest his aged limbs and head br And when the sun set glowing red br The stars he did explore. br br What tranquil balm and peace of mind br Comes unto him who leaves behind br The paths of fame, yet riches find br ‘Mid Nature’s simple store? br br Here, gulls cry wild upon the breeze br Waves rise and gently fall with ease br And Time, it passes as you please br When Summer’s come once more. br br Here, one wicked wild west wintry gale br Waves crashed and roared in angry wail br Ae night nae demon would set sail br And, Will was seen no more... br br When salt spray flies o’er the Pan bay br A white-bearded ghost, so they say br Walks to the sea at break of day br Upon that eerie shore.