The Pamphlet Collection of Sir Robert Stout: Volume 87
Lochaber no More
Lochaber no More.
[Tbo' hurricanes rise, tho' rise ev'ry wind,
No tempest can equal the storm in my mind;
Tho' loudest of thunders on louder waves roar,
That's naething like leavin' my love on the shore.
To leave thee behind me my heart is sair pain'd;
But by ease that's inglorious no fame can be gain'd;
And beauty and love's the reward of the brave;
And I maun deserve it before I can crave.]
Then glory, my Jeanie, maun plead my excuse:
Since honour commands me, how can I refuse?
Without it, I ne'er can have merit for thee;
And losing thy favour I'd better not be.
I gae then, my lass, to win honour and fame;
And if I should chance to come glorious hame,
I' ll bring a heart to thee with love running o'er,
And then I'll leave thee and Lochaber no more.