In the highlands' bloody history

there was once a mighty laird

a braw and fearsome man was he

with a daughter most passing fair.

Four sons his lady had borne him long

four sons that had ne'er drew breath

and as his daughter gave her first cry

his beloved wife lay dead.

He hunted o'er the moors by day

with the falcon that was his pride

entrusted to an orphan boy

that e'er was by his side.

And when his daughter came of age

there were suitors by the score

but one by one she bade them begone

'till at last they came no more.

But one young man she had loved so long

and her love he did return

and on that day they lay down beside

the banks of the shady burn.

The weeks went by and to everyone

how happy she had become

till one fine morn they woke up to find

both her and the falconer gone.

They had not ridden a dozen leagues

then were caught so easily

and black with rage the laird cried out

he will hang from the gallows tree.

As they placed the noose around his neck

she cried out so piteously

dear father father spare this man

for his child is growing in me.

Her lover looked upon his laird

and he spoke with head held high

I have loved you like your own true son

that you have e'er been denied.

Then from the eyes of that mighty laird

the tears sprang down his cheeks

he cried I have been grieving too long

make ready a great wedding feast.

In the highlands' bloody history

there was once a mighty laird

a braw and handsome man was he

with grandsons and 'daughters most fair