My mountain hame, my mountain hame,
My kind, my independent mother!
While thought an' feeling rule my frame,
Can I forget the mountain heather?
⁠Scotland dear!

Though I to other lands may go,
Should fortune's smile attend me thither,
As robin comes in winter's snaw
I'll homeward seek the mountain heather,
⁠Scotland dear!

I love to hear your daughters dear
The simple tale in sang revealing;
Whene'er your music greets my ear,
My bosom melts wi' joyous feeling,
⁠Scotland dear!

When I shall die, O I wad lie
Where life an' me first met thegither,
That my cauld clay, through its decay,
Might bloom again in the mountain heather,
⁠Scotland dear!