Ged théid mi gu danns,
Cha bhi sannt agam dhà;
Cha 'n fhaic mi té ann

A ni samhladh do m' ghràdh ;
Nuair dhìreas mi 'n gleann,

Bidh mi sealltainn an àird
Ri dùthaich nam beann

'S am bheil m' annsachd a' tàmh.

Bheir i bàrr air na ceudan,

An té tha mi sealg;

I 'n gnùis mar an reul

A bheir leus fad' air falbh ;
Mar ròs air a' mheangan,
Tha 'n ainnir 'na dealbh;
'S ged sgàineadh mo chridhe,
Cha 'n innis mi h-ainm.

A GHLINN UD SHIOS.
LEIS AN LIGHICHE MAC LACHAINN.

A ghlinn ud shìos, a ghlinn ud shìos,
Gur trom an diugh mo shùil
A' dearcadh air do lagain àigh,
Mar b' àbhaist dhoibh o thùs.

Do choill tha fhathast dosrach, àrd,
'S gach sìthean àillidh, uain ;
'S fuaim an lùb-uillt nuas o d' fhrìth
'Na shuain cheòl-sith am chluais.

Tha 'n spréidh ag ionaltradh air do mhàgh,
Na caoraich air an raon;

Tha chùrr ag iasgach air do thràigh,

'S an fhaoileann air a' chaol.

No ball-room can tempt me
Or raise my despair;

There is none in the dance

That with thee can compare;
When climbing the mountains,
I gaze o'er the tide,

To the land where my fair one
Has gone to reside.

In beauty there's none

With the maiden can vie;
She's bright as the stars
In the blue-vaulted sky;

She's fair as the lily

And sweet as the rose;
But nothing can tempt me
Her name to disclose.

O, LOVELY GLEN!

O, lovely glen! as through a haze
Of tears that dim mine eye,
Upon thy fertile fields I gaze,
Fair, as in days gone by.

Thy stately pines their tall heads rear
O'er fairy knolls and braes ;
Thy purling streamlets now I hear
Like music's sweetest lays.

Thy herds are feeding as of yore
With sheep upon the lea;
The heron fishes by the shore;
The white-gull on the sea.

Tha guth na cuthaig air do stùc;
An smudan air do ghéig ;

Os ceann do lòin tha 'n uiseag ghrinn
Ri ceilear binn 'san speur.

Tha suaimhneas anns gach luibh fo bhlàth,
Bàigh air gach creig is cluain,
A' toirt am chuimhne mar a bha
'Sna làithean thàrlaidh uainn.

Fuaim do chaochain, fead na gaoith,
Is luasgan àrd nan geug,

'G ath-nuadhachadh le còmhradh tlàth Nan làithean àigh a thréig.

Ach chì mi t'fhàrdaich air dol sìos
'Nan làraich fhalaimh, fhuair ;
Cha'n fhaic fear-siubhail, fàr nan stuc
Na smùidean 'g éirigh suas.

Do ghàradh fiadhaich fàs gun dreach,
Gun neach 'ga chur air seòl,
Le fliodh is foghnain ann a' fàs,
'S an fheanntag 'n àite 'n ròis.

O! c'àit am bheil gach caraid gaoil
Bu chaomh leam air do leirg?
A chuireadh fàilte orm a' teachd,
Is beannachd leam a' falbh ?

Tha chuid is mò dhiubh anns an ùir,
'S an t-iarmad fada bh'uainn,
Dh' fhàg mis' am aonaran an so,

'Nam choigreach nochdte, truagh.

The cuckoo's voice is heard at dawn;
The dove coos in the tree;
The lark, above the grassy lawn,

Now carols loud with glee.

Repose supremely reigns o'er all;

Love crowns the mountains hoar; And vividly they now recall

The days that are no more.

Thy gurgling brooks, and winds that fleet
Through groves of stately pine,
Awaken with their converse sweet
Sad thoughts of auld langsyne.

Thy peaceful dwellings once so bright,
In dreary ruins lie;

The traveller sees not from the height
The smoke ascending high.

To yonder garden, once thy pride,
No one attention shows,

And weeds grow thickly side by side,
Where bloomed the blushing rose.

Where are the friends of worthy fame,
Their hearts on kindness bent;
Whose welcome cheered me when I came,
Who blessed me as I went ?

Full many in the church-yard sleep',

The rest are far away;

And I forlorn in silence weep,

With neither friend nor stay.

'Nam choigreach nochdte, truagh, gun taic 'S an aiceid ann am chliabh

An aiceid chlaoidhteach sin nach caisg'Gam shlaid a chum mo chrìch.

'Gam shlaid a chum mo chrìch le bròn ;
Ach thugam glòir do 'n Tì ;
Cha tug e dhòmhsa ach mo chòir :
Ri òrdugh bitheam strìochdt'.

Tha lòchran dealrach, dait' nan speur

Air tèarnadh sìos do 'n chuan,

Is tonnan uain na h-àirde 'n iar
Ag iadhadh air mu'n cuairt;

Sgaoil an oidhch a cleòc mu 'n cuairt ;
Cha chluinn mi fuaim 'sa ghleann
Ach ceàrdabhan, le siubhal fiar,
Ri ceòl is tiamhaidh srann.

A ghlinn ud shios, a ghlinn ud shios,
A ghlinn is ciataich dreach,

A' tionndadh uait dhol thar do shliabh,
Mo bheannachd shìorruidh leat !

ORAN FEASGAIR A' BHAIRD. LEIS AN LIGHICHE MAC LACHAINN.

'So 'nam shìneadh air an t-sliabh,
'S mi ri iargain na bheil bhuam;
'S tric mo shùil a' sealltainn siar
Far an luidh a' ghrian 'sa chuan.
Chi mi thall a h-aiteal caomh

Deàrrsadh caoin ri taobh na tràigh: 'S truagh nach robh mi air an raon Far an deach i claon 'san àillt.