Thy lovely lochs, dear to my heart,
I never more may see.

The heaven of May is mirror'd clear
Within thy waters deep;
So shall my soul with loving care
Thine image ever keep.

I've seen Edina's rocky walls,
Her palaces and bowers;
I've gazed on London's lofty halls,
And monumental towers.

In yon green isle towards the west,
I've roamed without control;
And many a wild, romantic coast
Has charm'd my inmost soul.

But aye to me the sunniest rays
Have thrown their sweetest gleams
Where Bruce was born, and summer days
Inspired my youthful dreams.

The water lilies there shall rest,
And minnows round them play;
The coot shall build her floating nest,
When I am far away.

But ah! no more thy streams and glens
Shall bless my sight, Lochmaben;