For the deidly wars are passed and gane
and gentle peace returning
Left mony's the sweet babe faitherless
and mony's the widow mourning
I left the lines and the tented field
whaur I'm no longer a lodger
A humble knapsack, it's a' my wealth
I'm a poor but honest sodger
A lea-licht hert was in my brest
my hands unstained wi' plunder
It's all for Scotia hame again
I cheery on did wonder
I thocht upon the banks of Coille
I thocht upon my Nancy
I thocht upon her bewitching smile
that stole my youthful fancy