The Bonnie Lass of Albanie
<poem> My heart is wae, and unco wae, To think upon the raging sea, That roars between her gardens green, An' th' bonnie lass of ALBANIE. -
This lovely maid's of nobel blood, That ruled Albion's kingdoms three; But Oh, Alas! for her bonie face, They hae wrang'd the lass of ALBANIE.
In the rolling tide of spreading Clyde, There sits an isle of high degree, And a town of fame whose princely name, Should grace the lass of ALBANIE.
But there's a youth, a witless youth, That fills the place where she should be; We'll send him o'er to his native shore, And bring our ain sweet ALBANIE.
Alas the day, and woe the day, A false Usurper wan the gree, Who now commands the towers and lands - The royal right of ALBANIE.
We'll daily pray, we'll nightly pray, On bended knees most fervently, That the time may come, with pipe an' drum, We'll welcome hame fair ALBANIE.