I'm wearin' awa', John,
Like snaw wreaths in thaw, John,
I'm wearin' awa'
To the land o' the leal.
There's nae sorrow there, John,
There's neither cauld nor care, John,
The day is aye fair
In the land o' the leal.

Our bonnie bairn's there, John,
She was bairth good and fair, John,
And oh ! We grudged her sair
To the land o' the leal.
But sorrow's sel' wears past, John,
And joy's a-comin fast, John,
The joy that's aye to last
In the land o' the leal.