It was a' for our Rightful King

By Robert Burns 1759–1796 Robert Burns

It was a' for our rightful king

That we left fair Scotland's strand;

It was a' for our rightful king

We e'er saw Irish land,

My dear,

We e'er saw Irish land.

Now a' is done that men can do,

And a' is done in vain!

My love, and native land, fareweel!

For I maun cross the main,

My dear,

For I maun cross the main.

He turn'd him right and round about,

Upon the Irish shore,

He gave his bridle-reins a shake,

With, Adieu for evermore,

My dear!

And adieu for evermore!

The soldier frae the war returns,

And the merchant frae the main.

But I hae parted frae my love,

Never to meet again,

My dear,

Never to meet again.

When day is gone and night is come,

And a' folk bound to sleep,

I think on him that's far awa

The lee-lang night, and weep,

My dear,

The lee-lang night, and weep.

Biography

Born on 25 January 1759 in Alloway, Scotland, to William and Agnes Brown Burnes, Robert Burns followed his father's example by becoming a tenant farmer. Unlike William Burnes, however, Burns was able to escape the vicissitudes and vagaries of the soil in two ways: toward the end of his life he became an excise collector in Dumfries, where he died in 1796; and throughout his life he was a practicing poet. As a poet he recorded . . .

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