Land of the leal.
I'm wearin' awa' Jean,
Like snaw-wreaths in thaw, Jean,
I'm wearin' awa'
To the land o' the leal.
There's nae sorrow there, Jean
There's neither cauld nor care, Jean,
The day's aye fair
In the land o' the leal.
To me ye hae bee true Jean,
Your task's ended noo, Jean
For near kythes my view
O' the land o' the leal.
Our bonnie bairn's there, Jean,
She was baith gude and fair, Jean,
And, oh! we grud'd her sair
To the land o' the leal.
But dry that tearfu' ee Jean,
Grieve na for her and me, Jean
Frae sin and sorrow free
I' the land o' the leal.
Now fare ye weel, may ain Jean!
This warld's cares are vain, Jean,
We'll meet and aye be fein
I' the land o' the leal.
