The Gathering of the Clans

There's news come ower the Highlands yestreen
Will soon gar bonnets an' broadswords keen,
An' philabegs short an' tartans green,
Shine over the shore in the morning.
He comes, he comes, our spirits to cheer,
To cherish the land he holds so dear,
To banish the reaver,
The base deceiver,
And raise the fame of the clans for ever ;
Oar Prince's array
Is in Moidart bay,
Come raise the clamour
Of bagpipes' yamour,
And join our loved Prince in the morning.

Come, brave Lochiel, the honour be thine,
The first in loyal array to shine ;
If bold Clan-Ranald and thee combine,
Then who dares remain in the morning ?
Glengarry will stand with arm of steel,
And Keppoch is blood from head to heel ;
The Whiggers o' Sky may gang to the deil,
When Connal and Donald,
And gallant Clan-Ranald,
Are all in array,
And hasting away
To welcome their Prince in the morning.

The Appin will come while coming is good,
The stern M'Intosh is of trusty blood,
M'Kenzie and Fraser
Will come at their leisure,
The Whiggers of Sutherland scorning ;
The Atholmen keen as fire from steel,
M'Pherson for Charlie will battle the deil,
The hardy Clan-Donnoch
Is up in the Rannoch,
Unawed by the pride of haughty Argyle,
And lordly Drummond
Is belted, and coming
To join his loved Prince in the morning.

Come all that are true men, steel to the bane,
Come all that reflect on the days that are gane,
Come all that hae breeks and all that hae nane,
And all that are bred unto sorning —
Come Moidart and Moy, M'Gun and M'Craw,
M'Dugalds, M'Donalds, M'Devils, an' a',
M' Duffs an' M 'Dumpies,
M'Leods an' M'Lumpies,
With claymores gleaming,
And standards streaming,
Come, swift as the roe,
For weel or for woe,
That Whigs in their error
May quake for terror,
To see our array in the morning.