Donald Macdonald

My name it is Donald Macdonald—

I live in the Highlands sae grand;

I've follow'd my banner, and will do,

Wherever my Maker has land.

When rankit amang the blue bonnets,

Nae danger can fear me ava;

I ken that my brethren around me

Are either to conquer or fa'.

Brogues, and brochan, and a',

Brochan, and brogues, and a";

And is na the laddie weel aff

Wha has brogues,and brochan, and a'?

Short syne we were wonderfu' canty,

Our friends and our country to see

But since the proud Consul's grown vauntie,

We'll meet him by land or by sea.

Wherever a clan is disloyal,

Wherever our king has a foe,

He'll quickly see Donald Macdonald,

Wi' his Highlanders a' in a row.

Guns, and pistols, and a',

Pistols, and guns, and a';

He'll quickly see Donald Macdonald,

Wi' guns, and pistols, and a'.

What though we befreendit young Charlie?

To tell it I dinna think shame;

Puir lad! he cam' to us but barely,

And reckon'd our mountains his hame.

It's true that our reason forbade us,

But tenderness carried the day;

Had Geordie come friendless amang us,

Wi' him we had a' gane away.

Sword, and buckler, and a',

Buckler, and sword, and a';

For George we'll encounter the devil,

Wi' sword, and buckler, and a'.

And O I wad eagerly press him

The keys o' the East to retain;

For should he gi'e up the possession,

We'll soon ha'e to force them again:

Than yield up an inch wi' dishonour,

Though it were my finishln' blow,

He aye may depend on Macdonald,

Wi' his Highlandmen all in a row.

Knees, and elbows, and a',

Elbows, and knees, and a';

Depend upon Donald Macdonald,

His knees, and elbows, and a'.

If Bonaparte land at Fort-William,

Auld Europe nae langer shall grane;

I laugh when I think how we'll gall him

Wi' bullet, wi' steel, and wi' stane:

Wi' rocks o' the Nevis and Garny

We'll rattle him aff frae our shore,

Or lull him asleep in a cairnie,

And sing him Lochaber no more!

Stanes, and bullets, and a'.

Bullets, and stanes, and a';

We'll finish the Corsican callau

Wi' stanes, and bullets, and a'.

The Gordon is gude in a hurry;

And Campbell is steel to the bane,

And Grant, and Mackenzie, and Murray,

And Cameron, will hurkle to nane;

The Stuart is sturdy and wannel;

And sae is Macleod and Mackay;

And I, their gude-brither, Macdonald,

Sall never be last in the fray.

Brogues, and brochan, and a',

Brochan, and brogues, and a';

And up wi' the bonnie blue bonnet,

The kilt, and feather, and a'.