Oh where shall I gae seek my bread
Andwhere shall I gae wander
And where shall I gae hide my head
For here I'll bide nae langer
The seas may row, the winds may blow
And swathe me round in danger
My native land I must forgo
And roam a lonely stranger
The glen that was my father's own
Must be by his forsaken
And the house that was my father's home
Is levelled with the bracken
Ochon, ochon, our glory's o'er
Stole by a mean deceiver
Our hands are on the broad claymore
But the might is broke forever
And now my Prince, my injured Prince
Thy people have disowned thee
Have hunted and have driven thee down
With ruined chiefs around thee
Thy brave, thy just, fell in the dust
On ruin's brink they quiver
Heaven's pitying eye is closed on thee
Adieu, adieu forever