Away, ye gay landscapes, ye gardens of roses,
In you let the minions of luxury rove,
Restore me the rocks where the snow-flake reposes
Though still they are sacred to freedom and love.
Yet Caledonia, belov'd are thy mountains,
Round their white summits the elements war,
Though cataracts foam 'stead of smooth-flowing fountain
I sigh for the valley of dark Lochnagar.
Ah! there my young footsteps in infancy wander'd,
My cap was the bonnet, my cloak was my plaid.
On chieftains long perish'd my memory ponder'd
As daily I strode thro' the pine cover'd glade.
I sought not my home till the day's dying glory
Gave place to the rays of the bright Polar star,
For fancy was cheer'd by traditional story,
Disclos'd by the natives of dark Lochnagar!
Years have roll'd on, Lochnagar, since I left you!
Years must elapse ere I tread you again.
Though nature of verdure and flow'rs has bereft you,
Yet still are you dearer than Albion's plain.
England, thy beauties are tame and domestic
To one who has roamed over mountains afar
Oh! for the crags that are wild and majestic,
The steep frowning glories of dark Lochnagar.
Chorus:
Brave Caledonia dear are thy mountains
I sigh for the valley o' dark 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 earthy slumbers
Tae sleep wi' your clan in the caves o' Braemar
The pibroch resounds tae the pipers loud numbers
Your deeds to the echoes o' dark Lochnagar.
Your deeds to the echoes o' dark Lochnagar.
Chorus
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