Macgregor of Ruara's lament

My sorrow, deep sorrow, incessant returning,

Time still as it flies adds increase to my mourning,

When I think of Macgregor, true heir of Glenlyon,

Where still to sad fancy his banners seem flying.

Of Macgregor na Ruara, whose pipes far resounding,

With their bold martial strain set each bosom a bounding,

My sorrow, deep sorrow, incessant returning,

Time still as it flies adds increase to my mourning.