I'm wearin' awa' Jean, 
Like snaw-wreaths in thaw, Jean,


I'm wear in' awa'
 To the land o' the leal.

There's nae sorrow there, Jean 
There's neither cauld nor care, Jean,


The day's aye fair 
 In the land o' the leal.

To me ye hae bee true Jean, 
Your ta-ask's ended noo, Jean 


For near kythes my view
 O' the land o' the leal.

Our bonnie bairn's there, Jean, 
She was baith gude and fair, Jean, 


And, oh! we grud'd her sair 
 To the land o' the leal.

But dry that tearfu' ee Jean,
 Grieve na for her and me, Jean


Frae sin and sorrow free 
 I' the land o' the leal.

Now fare ye weel, may ain Jean!
 This warld's cares are vain, Jean, 


We'll meet and aye be fein 
I' the land o' the leal.