Oh! come from the valley, Oh! come from the plain,
And arise to the hills of your fathers again;
For a chief hath unfurled his banner on high,
And the scourge of his country hath dar'd to defy!

Our lands are laid waste and our homes are destroy'd,
Whilst the ravaging Suthron is dwelling in pride;
Oh! gather, ye brave ones, in battle array,
And the storm of the carnage shall sweep him away!

What! shall this usurper be lord of our land,
Nor the sons of its heroes the tyrant withstand?
And shall it be said that a Scot ever bore
The chains which his fathers had spurned before?

Then come from the valley, and come from the plain,
And arise to the hills of your fathers again;
We will rush like a whirlwind, or burst like a flood,
And the sun of his glory shall set in his blood!