Loch-nan-dail le chladach 'seoin,
Loch-nan-lach is glaise geoidh,
Iasgach pailt air bhailc nan ob,
'S gasd 'an spors do sheoid dhol ann.
Hurabh o, &c.
Air gach dail tha mart le laogh,
Anns gach glaic tha pailteas naoisg,
Air gach stacan, coileach fraoich
'Mach na d' aonach sgaoth chearc donn.
Hurabh o, &c.
Coill Aigeascaig gu ceutach cluth,
'S am beil legion coileach-dubh,
Sud an doire 'n goir iad moch,
Seinn am puirt le'm bus-ghuib chrom,
Hurabh o, &c.
Cuag chuldonn anns gach ait'
Seinn guggug an dluths 'nam barr,
Breacaidh-beith 'sa ghlas charn,
Snathadag is dreadhan donn,
Hurabh o, &c.
Smudan, smeorach, creothar, dnag,
Sud an ceol is boidhche sgread;
'S bru-dearg ruiteach gearradh fead,
Thuas air creagan os an cionn.
Hurabh o, &c.
Leam a b'ait bhi seal le'm ghaol,
G-eisdeachd cruitearan do chraobh;
Gabhail beachd air obair shaor
Nadair aonsgeulaich 's gach ball.
Hurabh o, &c.
Song on Tournaig.
Twice has the bright returning May
Inspired me to poetic lay,
Since Tournaig's hills first knew my tread
And cast their shadows o'er my head.
Hurrah, the chorus let me raise!
The Corrie be my theme of praise,
On whose brown ridge the heather grows,
And where the healthful north wind blows.
Here nature glories in her pride;
O'er heaven the clouds, all sunlit, glide;
Like polished shield the ocean glows,
The babbling burn sings as it flows.
Hurrah, &c. &c.
Tournaig! thou home beloved by me!
With rich green crop and sloping lea,
With fruitful fields and white-fleeced sheep
Dotting afar each breezy steep.
Hurrah, &c. &c.