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 30,000 pounds upon my head

For dear life 1 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