Round by Dingwall and Wrath to the mouth of the Clyde.
There wasn't a child or a woman or man
Who could pipe with Clonglocketty Angus M'Clan.
No other could wake such detestable groans,
With reed and with chaunter—with bag and with drones:
All day and all night he delighted the chiels
With sniggering pibrochs and jiggety reels.
He'd clamber a mountain and squat on the ground,
And the neighbouring maidens would gather around