How swiftly fly the thoughts away,
Through fickle fortunes' maze;
Reflective Mem'ry loves to stray,
'Mong scenes of former days,
The fairest pictures of the past,
Sweet recollections draw;
I see them as I saw them last
O'er joyed in Gallowa.

I see Cairnharru proudly rise,
I see the chosen few,
In quest of pleasure -- sparkling eyes,
And thine Oh Agness too;
I see thee in the early dawn
When wanton Zephyrs blow:
And nightly when the shades are drawn
In dreams of Gallowa.

Thy smiles around my pillow sweep,
Oh how supremely blest;
Bright visions tend me while I sleep
And soothe my soul to rest.
I hear thy parting words so bland
In sweetest accents fa'!
I feel the pressure of thy hand,
And sigh for Gallowa.