Way up on old Linville Mountain
Where the bear and the catamount reign
A strange ghostly light appears every night
Which no scientist or hunter can explain.
In the days of the old covered wagon
When they camped on the flats for the night
With the moon shinin’ dim o’er the old canyon rim
They watched for that brown mountain light.
High on the mountain
And down in the valley below
It shines like the crown of an angel
And fades as the mists come and go
Way over yonder
Night after night until dawn
A faithful old slave comes back from the grave
Is searching for his master who’s long gone.
Many years ago a southern planter
Came huntin’ in this wide world alone
Then so they say the hunter lost his way
And never returned to his home.
His trusting ol’ slave brought a lantern
And searched but in vain day and night
Now the ol’ slave is gone
but his spirit lingers on
And the lantern it still casts it’s light.