Away, ye gay landscapes, ye gardens o roses.
In you let the minions of luxury rove.
Restore me the rocks where snowflake reposes
If still they are sacred to freedom and love
Brave Caledonia, dear are thy mountains,
Round their white summits though elements war.
Thoâ cataracts roar stead of smooth flowing fountains,
I sigh for the valleys o dark Lochnagarr.
Ah, there my young footsteps in infancy wandered.
My cap was my bonnet, my cloak was my plaid.
On chieftains long perished my memory lingered
As daily I strayed through the pine covered glade.
I sought not my home till the days dying glory.
Gave place to the rays o the bright polar star
My fancy was cheered by the bold martial story
As told by the sons o Dark Lochnagar.
Years have rolled on, Lochnagar, since I left you
Years must roll on ere I see you again
Though Nature of verdure and flowers bereft you
Yet still art thou dearer than Albion s plain
England! thy beauties are tame and domestic
To one who has roved on the mountains afar
Oh for the crags that are wild and majestic
The steep frowning glories o wild Lochnagar.
Ill starred now the brave did no vision foreboding.
Tell you that fate had forsaken our cause
Yet were you destined to die at Culloden?
Though victory crowned not your fall with applause.
Yet were you happy in death s earthly slumber
Tae sleep wiâ your clan in the caves of Braemar
The pibroch resounds tae the piper s loud numbers
Your deeds on the echoes oâ dark Lochnagar.
PLAYED SLOWLY
Brave Caledonia dear are thy mountains
I sigh for the valley o dark Lochnagar
Repeat fading
The steep sounding glories of dark Lochnagar
The steep sounding glories of dark Lochnagar
The steep sounding glories of dark Lochnagar