Through Glen Laoigh we’ll soon descend,
Our points of steel we’ll swiftly send
Thro’ every loon that bars us.
We will up and march away,
We will up and march away,
We will up and march away,
Daring let of all men.
“O’er the hills we’ll speed along,
Thro’ Glencoe the march prolong;
Our King the burden of our song,