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Matt McGinn
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Loch Lomond
Whither away, my bonnie, bonnie May
So late and so far in the gloamin'
The mist gathers grey o'er muirland and brae
Oh! whither alane art thou roamin'
I trysted my ain love the night in the broom
My Ranald wha loves me sae dearly
For the morrow he marches for Edinburgh toon
To fecht for the King and Prince Chairlie
Yet, why weep you sae, my bonnie, bonnie May
Your true love from battle returning
His darling will claim at the height o' his fame
And change into gladness her mourning
Oh! weel may I weep - yestreen in my sleep
We stood bride and bridegroom thegither
But his lips and his breath were as chilly as death
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And his heart's bluid was red on the heather
Oh, dauntless in battle as tender in love
He'd yield ne'er a foot to the foeman
And never again frae the field o' the slain
To Moira he'll come and Loch Lomond
He'll tak' the high road and I'll tak' the low
And I'll be in Heaven afore him
For my bed is prepared in yon mossy graveyard
'Mang the hazels o' green Inverarnan
The thistle shall bloom, and the King hae his ain
And fond lovers meet in the gloamin'
But I and my true love shall never meet again
By the bonnie bonnie banks of Loch Lomond
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