Lament him, ye mountains of Ross-shire; Your tears be the dew and the rain; Ye forests and straths, let the sobbing winds Unburden your grief and pain. Lament him, ye warm-hearted clansmen, And mourn for a kinsman so true The pride of the Highlands, the valiant MacDonald Will never come back to you. CHORUS: O, wail for the mighty in battle, Loud lift ye the Coronach strain; For Hector, the Hero, of deathless fame, Will never come back again. Lament him, ye sons of old Scotia, Ye kinsmen on many a shore; A patriot-warrior, fearless of foe, Has fallen to rise no more. O cherish his triumph and glory On Omdurman's death-stricken plain, His glance like the eagle's, his heart like the lion's His laurels a nation's gain. O rest thee, brave heart, in thy slumber, Forgotten shall ne'er be thy name; The love and the mercy of Heaven be thine; Our love thou must ever claim. To us thou art Hector the Hero, The chivalrous, dauntless, and true; The hills and the glens, and the hearts of a nation, Re-echo the wail for you.
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