Methinks you take small heed!
Sing, mournfully, oh! mournfully,
The solitude of Binnorie!
Away the seven fair Campbells fly,
And, over hill and hollow,
With menace proud, and insult loud,
The youthful rovers follow.
Cried they, "Your father loves to roam:
Enough for him to find
The empty house when he comes home;