Our native land--our native vale--
A long, a last adieu;
Farewell to bonnie Teviotdale,
And Cheviot's mountains blue!
Farewell, ye hills of glorious deeds,
Ye streams renown'd in song;
Farewell, ye braes and blossom'd meads,
Our hearts have loved so long!
Farewell, the blithsome broomy knowes,
Where thyme and harebells grow;
Farewell, the hoary, haunted howes,
O'erhung with birk and sloe!
The mossy cave and mouldering tower,
That skirt our native dells;
The martyr's grave and lover's bower,
We bid a sad farewell!
Home of our love--our fathers' home--
Land of the brave and free--
The sail is flapping on the foam
That bears us far from thee!
We seek a wild and distant shore,
Beyond the western main;
We leave thee to return no more,
Nor view thy cliffs again!
Our native land--our native vale--
A long, a last adieu!
Farewell to bonnie Teviotdale,
And Scotland's mountains blue!