The Linn o Quoich comes rinkin doon
Far chieftains pledged their bluid in wine
Tae raise the clans, baith laird an loon
Fur princelins o the Stewart line.
An in yon lanely, curlew's airt
The deidly pact concludit, syne.

Aft in ma bairnhood in yon glen
The bonnie burnie teemed a gill
Aroon ma queats. Its watters played
A tackie game, as littlins will.

The waves war saft. They skelped an skirped
An skailed, as loud I skirled in glee
Wi shared delicht, we lowped like troots
Raisin a stooshie eidently.

It's forty year an mair sinsyne
It catched me in its glimmrin net
Tho noo I hirple, hippit, crine,
The Linn's as swack's a littlin yet.