C.D. Warner, et al., comp. The Library of the World’s Best Literature.
An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

Lochaber No More

FAREWELL to Lochaber, and farewell my Jean,

Where heartsome with thee I’ve mony day been;

For Lochaber no more, Lochaber no more,

We’ll maybe return to Lochaber no more.

These tears that I shed, they are a’ for my dear,

And no for the dangers attending on wear,

Though bore on rough seas to a far bloody shore,

Maybe to return to Lochaber no more.

Though hurricanes rise, and rise every wind,

They’ll ne’er make a tempest like that in my mind;

Though loudest of thunder on louder waves roar,

That’s naething like leaving my love on the shore.

To leave thee behind me my heart is sair pained;

By ease that’s inglorious no fame can be gained;

And beauty and love’s the reward of the brave,

And I must deserve it before I can crave.

Then glory, my Jeany, maun plead my excuse!

Since honor commands me, how can I refuse?

Without it I ne’er can have merit for thee,

And without thy favor I’d better not be.

I gae then, my lass, to win honor and fame,

And if I should luck to come gloriously hame,

I’ll bring a heart to thee with love running o’er,

And then I’ll leave thee and Lochaber no more.