For other versions of this work, see The Land of the Leal.
THE LAND O’ THE LEAL.
I’m wearing awa, Jean,
like snaw when it's shaw, Jean,
I’m wearing awa
To the land o’ the leal.
There’s nae sorrow there, Jean.
There’s nae cauld nor care, Jean,
The day is aye fair,
In the land o’ the leal.
Ye were aye leal and true, Jean,
Your task’s ended now, Jean
And I’ll welcome you,
To the land o’ the leal.
Our bonny bairn’s there, Jean,
She was baith gude and fair, Jean,
And we grudg’d her right sair
To the land o’ the leal.
hen dry that tearful ee, Jean;
My soul langs to be free, Jean,
And angels wait on me
To the land o’ the leal.
Now, fare ye weel, my ain, Jean,
This warld’s care is vain, Jean,
We’ll meet, and aye be fain,
In the land o’ the leal.