THE CAMPBELLS ARE COMING

Gather, oh gather! gather, oh gather On with the philabeg every man And up with the bonnet and badge of your father, Belt on the plaid of the great Campbell clan

From the heather clad hills of that island In whose straths and glens your fathers were born They come, and so gather, ye hearts that are Highland, Welcome the Lord and the Lady of Lorne!

Gather, oh gather, & c. Ocean to ocean the welcome is ringing, Fair Indian summer, with blush and with smile, O'er forests her right royal vesture is flinging

To welcome the bride and heir of Argyle. Princess of Lorne, we rise to receive her, First royal lady our country has seen, To this, the wide land of the maple and beaver,

We welcome thee Princess, child of our Queen. Gather, oh gather, & c. We had regret we sought not to smother — Kind Earl, dear Countess were called to depart;

But thoughtfully, kindly, the fair Queen our mother, Sends the son of her choice, the child of her heart. There is a stir, a bustle, a humming, The tartans are waving, plumes floating free,

While trumpet and drum sound, “The Campbells are coming” We are all Campbells in welcoming thee. Gather, oh gather, & c. Son of Argyle, so near to the sceptre,

And Princess Louise fair child of a throne, We welcome to stand for our Queen in this empire, Rule us, and love us, and make us your own Blow, wild pibroch, that welcomes no other!

Shout million-voiced failte, wave banners the while; She's worthy, fair child of so royal a mother, He's worthy the name and fame of Argyle. Gather, oh gather, & c.