O'er Coolin's face the night is creeping,
The banshee's wail is round us sweeping;
Blue eyes in Duin are dim with weeping,
Since thou art gone and ne'er returnest.
Chorus
No more, no more, no more returning;
In peace nor in war is he returning;
Till dawns the great day of doom and burning,
MacCrimmon is home no more returning.
The breeze of the bens is gently blowing;
The brooks in the glens are softly flowing;
Where boughs their darkest shades are throwing,
Birds mourn for thee who ne'er returnest.
Chorus
Its dirges of woe the sea is sighing,
The boat under sail unmov'd is lying;
The voice of waves in sadness dying
Say, thou art away and ne'er returnest.
Chorus
We'll see no more MacCrimmon's returning
In peace nor in war is he returning
Till dawns the great day of woe and burning,
For him, there's no more returning.
According to Hopekirk, this melody was composed in 1745 on the departure of Donald MacCrimmon by his sister. Another legend has it that Donald MacCrimmon had a premonition of his death and composed the tune the night before he died and that his sister later wrote the words. Donald MacCrimmon is said to have been killed in a skirmish in 1746 at the Rout of Moy during the last Jacobite Uprising.*
The MacCrimmons were famous pipers and the hereditary pipers of the Clan MacLeod.
The banshee's wail is round us sweeping;
Blue eyes in Duin are dim with weeping,
Since thou art gone and ne'er returnest.
Chorus
No more, no more, no more returning;
In peace nor in war is he returning;
Till dawns the great day of doom and burning,
MacCrimmon is home no more returning.
The breeze of the bens is gently blowing;
The brooks in the glens are softly flowing;
Where boughs their darkest shades are throwing,
Birds mourn for thee who ne'er returnest.
Chorus
Its dirges of woe the sea is sighing,
The boat under sail unmov'd is lying;
The voice of waves in sadness dying
Say, thou art away and ne'er returnest.
Chorus
We'll see no more MacCrimmon's returning
In peace nor in war is he returning
Till dawns the great day of woe and burning,
For him, there's no more returning.
According to Hopekirk, this melody was composed in 1745 on the departure of Donald MacCrimmon by his sister. Another legend has it that Donald MacCrimmon had a premonition of his death and composed the tune the night before he died and that his sister later wrote the words. Donald MacCrimmon is said to have been killed in a skirmish in 1746 at the Rout of Moy during the last Jacobite Uprising.*
The MacCrimmons were famous pipers and the hereditary pipers of the Clan MacLeod.