If they rob us of name and pursue us with beagles,
Give their roofs to the flame, and their flesh to the eagles.
Then gather, gather, gather, Gregarach.
While there's leaves in the forest, and foam on the river,
Macgregor, despite them, shall flourish for ever.
Glenorchy’s proud mountains, Co churn and her towers,
Glenstrae and Glenlyon no longer are ours;-
We're landless, landless, landless, Gregarach.
Through the depths of Loch Katrine the steed shall career,
O’er the peak of Benlomond the galley shall steer,
And the rocks of Craig Royston like icicles melt.
Ere our wrongs he forgot, or our vengeance unfelt,
Then vengeance, vengeance, vengeance, Gregarach.
’Twas merry in the Hall.
Now ancient English melodies
Are banish'd out of doors,
And nothing's heard in modern days,
But Signoras and Signores.
Such airs I hate
Like a pig in a gate,
Give me the good old strain,
When 'twas merry in the hall,
The beards wagged all,
We shall never see the like again,
We shall never see the like again.