| As I was a’walking one evening of late
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| Where fragrant fine flowers the field decorate
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| I carelessly rambled where I did not know
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| By the fair crystal fountain that falls in Glencoe
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| And on her who the prize on Mount Ider was won
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| Then approched me a lassy as bright as the sun
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| And the ribbon and the tartan around her did flow
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| That welcomed young Donald the pride of Glencoe
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| Said I, my fine creature, your charming sweet smile
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| And your comely fine features my heart has beguiled
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| And with your kind affection on me you’ll bestow
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| I 'll bless the happy hour we met in Glencoe
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| Kind sir, she made answer, your love I’ll disdain
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| For I have a young sweetheart and Donald by name
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| And he went to the wars about ten years ago
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| And a maid I remain 'till he return to Glencoe
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| Ah, perhaps your young Donald regards not your name
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| And has placed his affection on some foreign dame
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| He may have forgotten for all that you know
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| That bonny young creature he felt in Glencoe
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| From his promise my Donald he’d never depart
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| For love, truth and honour stand firm in his heart
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| And if I never see him, then single I’ll go
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| And mourn for my Donald the pride of Glencoe
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| Then seeing her constance he drew out a glove
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| Which in parting she gave him in token of love
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| She clung to his arms and the tears down did flow
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| Ah, you’re welcomed my Donald the pride of Glencoe
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| Come cheer up my Flora, your sorrows are o’er
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| And since we have met love we’ll never part more
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| And the loud blast of battle, far distant may blow
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| Whilst in peace and contentment we’ll live in Glencoe |