The hills o' Skye

There's a ship lies off Dunvegan,

An' she longs to spread her wings,

An' through a' the day she beckons,

An' thro' a' the nicht she sings!

"Come awa', awa', my darlin',

Come awa', awa', wi' me, and fly

To a land that is fairer, kinder,

Than the moors and the hills o' Skye.

Oh, my heart! My weary, weary heart!

There's ne'er a day goes by

But it turns hame to Dunvegan,

By the storm-beat hills o' Skye.

I hae wandered miles fu' many,

I hae mark'd fu' many a change,

I hae won me gear in plenty,

In this land sae fair, but strange.

Yet at times a spell is on me,

I'm a child, a child once again to rin

On the hills aboon Dunvegan,

An' the kind sea shuts me in.

Oh, my heart! My weary, weary heart!

There's ne'er a day goes by

But it turns hame to Dunvegan,

By the storm-beat hills o' Skye.