In the highlands‘ bloody history
there was once a mighty laird
a braw and fearsome man was he
with a daughter most passing fair.
Four sons his lady had borne him long
four sons that had ne‘er drew breath
and as his daughter gave her first cry
his beloved wife lay dead.
He hunted o‘er the moors by day
with the falcon that was his pride
entrusted to an orphan boy
that e‘er was by his side.
And when his daughter came of age
there were suitors by the score
but one by one she bade them begone
‘till at last they came no more.
But one young man she had loved so long
and her love he did return
and on that day they lay down beside
the banks of the shady burn.
The weeks went by and to everyone
how happy she had become
till one fine morn they woke up to find
both her and the falconer gone.
They had not ridden a dozen leagues
then were caught so easily
and black with rage the laird cried out
he will hang from the gallows tree.
As they placed the noose around his neck
she cried out so piteously
dear father father spare this man
for his child is growing in me.
Her lover looked upon his laird
and he spoke with head held high
I have loved you like your own true son
that you have e‘er been denied.
Then from the eyes of that mighty laird
the tears sprang down his cheeks
he cried I have been grieving too long
make ready a great wedding feast.
In the highlands‘ bloody history
there was once a mighty laird
a braw and handsome man was he
with grandsons and ‘daughters most fair