III.
But fickle fortune frowns on me,
And I maun cross the raging sea;
But while my crimson currents flow,
I’ll love my Highland lassie, O.
IV.
Altho’ thro’ foreign climes I range,
I know her heart will never change,
For her bosom burns with honour’s glow,
My faithful Highland lassie, O.
V.
For her I’ll dare the billows’ roar,
For her I’ll trace a distant shore,
That Indian wealth may lustre throw
Around my Highland lassie, O.
VI.
She has my heart, she has my hand,
by sacred truth and honour’s band!
’Till the mortal stroke shall lay me low,
I’m thine, my Highland lassie, O.
Farewell the glen sae bushy, O!
Farewell the plain sae rushy, O!
To other lands I now must go,
To sing my Highland lassie, O.