When I've done my work of day,
And I row my boat away,
Doon the waters o' Loch Tay,
As the evening light is fading,
And I look upon Ben Lawers,
Where the after glory glows,
And I think on two bright eyes
And the melting mouth below.
She's my beauteous nighean ruadh,
My joy and sorrow too,
And although she is untrue,
Well, I cannot live without her.
For my heart's a boat in tow,
And I'd give the world to know
Why she means to let me go,
As I sing ho-ree, ho-ro.
Nighean ruadh your lovely hair,
Has more glamour I declare,
Than all the tresses rare,
'Tween Killin and Aberfeldy.
Be they lint white, brown or gold,
Be they blacker than the sloe,
They are worth no more to me.
Than the melting flake o' snow.
Her eyes are like the gleam,
O' the sunlight on the stream,
And the song the fairies sing,
Seems like songs she sings at milking.
But my heart is full of woe,
For last night she bade me go,
And the tears begin to flow,
As I sing ho-ree, ho-ro.
And I row my boat away,
Doon the waters o' Loch Tay,
As the evening light is fading,
And I look upon Ben Lawers,
Where the after glory glows,
And I think on two bright eyes
And the melting mouth below.
She's my beauteous nighean ruadh,
My joy and sorrow too,
And although she is untrue,
Well, I cannot live without her.
For my heart's a boat in tow,
And I'd give the world to know
Why she means to let me go,
As I sing ho-ree, ho-ro.
Nighean ruadh your lovely hair,
Has more glamour I declare,
Than all the tresses rare,
'Tween Killin and Aberfeldy.
Be they lint white, brown or gold,
Be they blacker than the sloe,
They are worth no more to me.
Than the melting flake o' snow.
Her eyes are like the gleam,
O' the sunlight on the stream,
And the song the fairies sing,
Seems like songs she sings at milking.
But my heart is full of woe,
For last night she bade me go,
And the tears begin to flow,
As I sing ho-ree, ho-ro.
