Though I a wanderer be
No home on land or sea
Still my heart returns to thee
In silent reverie
Though on Scotland's bonnie shore
My feet shall tread no more
When I die will you bury me
Beneath a rowan tree
I love thy frosty morn
Where the hunter winds his horn
And thy heathered moors and glens
I'll not roam again
Though on Scotland's purple breast
I no longer take my rest
When I die will you bury me
Beneath a rowan tree
At brave Cunoden's stand
Highland blood like water ran
With 30,000pounds upon my head
For dear life I fled
Oh but though no crown I won
I'll always be yom'native son
So when I die will you bury me
Beneath a rowan tree
Beneath a rowan tree