The Highland Maid

Again the laverock seeks the sky,
And warbles, dimly seen;
And summer views, wi' sunny joy,
Her gowany robe o' green.
But ah! the summer's blithe return,
In flowery pride array'd,
Nae mair can cheer this heart forlorn,
Or charm the Highland Maid.

My true love fell by Charlie's side,
Wi' mony a clansman dear;
That fatal day--oh, wae betide
The cruel Southron's spear!
His bonnet blue is fallen now,
And bluidy is the plaid,
That aften on the mountain's brow,
Has wrapt his Highland Maid.

My father's shieling on the hill
Is dowie now and sad;
The breezes whisper round me still,
I 've lost my Highland lad.
Upon Culloden's fatal heath,
He spake o' me, they said,
And falter'd, wi' his dying breath,
"Adieu, my Highland Maid!"

The weary nicht for rest I seek,
The langsome day I mourn;
The smile upon my wither'd cheek
Can never mair return.
But soon beneath the sod I 'll lie,
In yonder lonely glade;
And, haply, ilka passer by
Will mourn the Highland Maid.