Bannocks o' barleymeal

Argyle is my name, -- and you may think it strange,

To live at a court, and yet never to change:

To faction, or tyranny, equally foe,

The good of the land's the sole motive I know.

The foes of my country and king I have fac'd,

In city or battle I ne'er was disgrac'd,

I've done what I could for my country's weal;

Now I'll feast upon bannocks o' barleymeal.

Ye riots and revels of London, adieu;

And folly, ye foplings, I leave her to you.

For Scotland, I mingled in bustle and strife;

For myself, I seek peace, and an innocent life:

I'll haste to the Highlands, and visit each scene

With Maggie my love, in her rockley o' green;

On the banks of Glenary what pleasure I feel,

While she shares my bannock o' barleymeal!

And if it chance Maggie should bring me a son,

He shall fight for his king, as his father has done;

I'll hang up my sword with an old soldier's pride;

O! may he be worthy to wear't on his side.

I pant for the breeze of my lov'd native place;

I long for the smile of each welcoming face;

I'll aff to the Highlands as fast's I can reel,

And feast upon bannocks o' barleymeal.