to Lochaber, farewell to my Jean,
Where heartsome wi' thee.. I ha'e mony days been;
For Lochaber no more, Lochaber no more,
We'll may be return to Lochaber no more.
These tears that I shed, they are a' for my dear,
And no for the dangers attending on weir,
Tho' borne on rough seas to a far distant shore,
Maybe to return to Lochaber no more.
Though hurricanes rise, though rise ev'ry wind,
No tempest can equal the storm in my mind;
Though loudest of thunders, on louder waves roar,
There's naething like leavin' my love on the shore.
To leave thee behind me, my heart is sair pain'd;
But by ease that's inglorious no fame can be gain'd;
And beauty and love's the reward of the brave;
And I maun deserve it before I can crave.
Then glory, my Jeanie, maun plead my excuse;
Since honour commands me, how can I refuse?
Without it, I ne'er can have merit for thee;
And losing thy favour, I'd better not be.
I gae then, my lass, to win honour and fame:
And if I should chance to come glorious hame,
I'll bring a heart to thee with love running o'er.
And then I'll leave thee and Lochaber no more.