The rowers are seated, unmoor’d are the galleys;
Gleam war-axe and broadsword, clang target and quiver,
As Mac Crimmon sings ‘Farewell to Dunvegan for ever!
Farewell to each cliff on which breakers are foaming;
Farewell each dark glen in which red deer are roaming,
Farewell lonely Skye, to lake, mountain, and river,
Mac Leod may return, but Mac Crimmon shall never!
‘Farewell the bright clouds that on Quillan are sleeping;
Farewell the bright eyes in the dun that are weeping;
To each minstrel delusion farewell—and for ever—