He 's Ower the Hills That I Lo'e Weel

He 's ower the hills that I lo'e weel,
He 's ower the hills we daurna name;
He 's ower the hills ayont Dunblane,
Wha soon will get his welcome hame.

My father's gane to fight for him,
My brithers winna bide at hame;
My mither greets and prays for them,
And 'deed she thinks they 're no to blame.
He 's ower the hills, &c.

The Whigs may scoff, the Whigs may jeer;
But, ah! that love maun be sincere
Which still keeps true whate'er betide,
An' for his sake leaves a' beside.
He 's ower the hills, &c.

His right these hills, his right these plains;
Ower Hieland hearts secure he reigns;
What lads e'er did our laddies will do;
Were I a laddie, I'd follow him too.
He 's ower the hills, &c.

Sae noble a look, sae princely an air,
Sae gallant and bold, sae young and sae fair;
Oh, did ye but see him, ye 'd do as we've done!
Hear him but ance, to his standard you 'll run.
He 's ower the hills, &c.

Then draw the claymore, for Charlie then fight;
For your country, religion, and a' that is right;
Were ten thousand lives now given to me,
I 'd die as aft for ane o' the three.
He 's ower the hills, &c.