ENGLISH

Must I, the Lord of all those hills,
A weary, exiled wanderer roam,
And quietly view thy ruined walls,
My own, my loved ancestral home.

The red-coats burned thy lofty dome,
Home by a thousand ties made dear,
How glad from war or chase I've come,
In thee my heart to rest and cheer.

When peace did her white banner rear,
And loving vassal and his lord
Went forth to hunt the roe and deer,
And turned to grace the festal board.

The blood-red wine in plenty poured,
And pibrochs told of battles won,
While "Senachie" would with pride record
The mighty deeds our sires had done.

Till martial fire in sire and son
Would burst into one glowing flame,
Whilst vows were breathed by every one,
He'd ne'er disgrace the Cameron name.

When time to raise our banner came,
And fiery cross had fleetly sped
To call the brave to fields of fame,
'Twas aye to victory we led.

The Southron foe our name did dread,
Though now Culloden's palm they bear,
They in their own pale blood might tread,
Had all our gallant clans been there.

Come shade of Bruce, my vigil share,
Come o'er ungraceful Scotland, mourn,
She hath disowned thy rightful heir,
Indignant fire, my heart doth burn.

To wear a foreign yoke I'd spurn,
Nor 'ganst my lawful king rebel,
That crown and sceptre's from him torn,
For mercy's cause, they're fain to tell.

In Dutch or Guelph doth mercy dewll,
Ye gallant heroes of Glencoe,
Arise in gory shrouds, and tell
Your mournful tale of dool and woe.

And rise, ye brave, whose blood did flow
On dark Culloden's dreary moor,
And tell how when ye were laid low,
That "Butcher's" hand did stab ye o'er.

Oh hush!  my heart, and grieve no more,
This is no time to sit and rest,
I'll hie me to a foreign shore,
And long to get thy wrongs redressed.

Sweet home, within thee every breast,
Did glow with love and purity,
And round thy hearth the stranger guest,
Met kindest hospitality.

And though I roam beyond the sea,
I'll ne'er forget the golden hours,
When I had ruled - a chieftain free,
'Mong Achnacarry's fairy bowers.

'Tis gore bedews the drooping flowers,
That now bedecks each dappled dell
Around thy ruined ancient towers,
Home of my heart, farewell, farewell!

Now Luna's lamp lights up the glen,
And I must hide from watchful foes,
I'll hie to where my Prince has lain,
In balmy sleep to drown his woes.

GAELIC

An éiginn dhòmhsa, Triath nam beann,
'Bhi'm fhògrach fann air feadh nan stùc,
'S gu tosdach sealltainn ort 's do cheann,
A thalla aosda anns an ùir!

Loisg na Dearganaich gu làr
Gach baideal àrd de'n dachaidh ghaoil,
'S an tric a fhuair mi fois 'us blàs,
Air tilleadh dhomh bho àr nan laoch.

'N uair 'thogadh sìth a bratach suas
'S a bhithinn-sa le m' thuath-cheathairn' fhéin
Tigh'nn luchdaichte gu tùr nam buadh
Bho'n chreachann fhuar 's am biodh na féidh.

Bu phailt am fìon 's bhiodh pìob air ghléus,
"S i caithreamach mu'r n-éuchd 's a' bhlàr;
'S trath 'bheireadh seanchaidh greis air sgéul,
Mu ghnìomhannan nan tréun a bhà.

Bhiodh crìdh' gach cuiridh laist' na 'chòm,
'S e ann am fonn gu 'bhi 's an àr;
Gach Camshronach 's a bhòid gu tròm
Gu 'ainm 'bhi measg nan sonn 's an dàn.

'N uair thogainn-sa mo shròl a suas
'S crois-tàraidh le luas na gaoith',
Ga'n tional gu toiteal nan tuagh,
'S ann riabh gu buaidh a thriall na laoich.

Bha uamhunn air na Goill romh'n ainm,
Ged tha 'n diugh pailm Chuil-fhodair ac'.
'S i'm bàn-fhuil fhéin bhiodh fo na buinn,
Na'm biodh ar suinn gu léir na'r taic'.

A thaibhse Bhruce dean faire leam,
'Us sileamaid ar deòir le chéil'
Chuir d'Albainn fhéin an diugh air chùl
Oighre do chrùin 's mòr am béud!

Ceannairc na 'aghaidh cha dian mì,
'S do choigreach mar rìgh cha lùb;
'An aobhar tròcair their iad rium,
Thug iad bho m' Phrionnsa gaoil a chrùn.

'An Dùitsich no'n Guelphich an d'fhuair
Tròcair no truacantas tàmh? -
Na d'ollainnich fhuiltich bho'n uaigh,
'Ghlinn-Comhann, luaidh dhuinn sgéul do chràidh.

'Us éireadh sìbhs', a laocha mòr
A thuit 'an "Cuil-fhodair" nan créuchd;
'Us ìnnsibh 'n uair a laidh sibh leòint',
Mar rinn an "Cù" ur feòil a réub'.

Bi'd thosd, mo chrìdh', 'us sguir a d'thurs'
Cha'n àm gu tuireadh so no tàmh;
Mo chreach mo làmh 'bhi'n diugh gun lùs
Gu dìoghladh air son luchd mo ghràidh.

A dhachaidh àigh 'bu làn de ghaol
Gach broilleach caomh 'ad thaobh a's teach;
'S mu'n cuairt do d'theallaich gheabhteadh faoilt',
Leis an aoighe aimbeartach.

Ged 'bhios mi'm fhògrach thall thair chuan,
Cha téid à m' chuimhn' na h-uairean òir,
A chaith mi 'measg do thulman uain',
O, 'Ach'-na-carraigh, 'm uachdran slòigh.

A nis tha lòchran séamh na h-oidhch',
A' boillsgeadh ort, a Ghlìnn mo chrìdh';
'S gur h-éiginn triall mu'n toir i soills'
Do dhaoidhearan a th'air mo thì.

Triallaidh mi gu gleann an fhraoich
'S am beil Prionns' mo ghaoil a' tàmh;
Fo cheangal ciùin a chadail chaoin,
Ni tamull beag e saor bho chràdh.