Robert Tannahill

Fly We to Some Desert Isle

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Fly we to some desert isle,
There we'll pass our days together,
Shun the world's derisive smile,
Wand'ring tenants of the heather:
Shelter'd in some lonely glen,
Far remov'd from mortal ken,
Forget the selfish ways o' men,
Nor feel a wish beyond each other.

Though my friends deride me still,
Jamie, I'll disown thee never;
Let them scorn me as they will,
I'll be thine--and thine for ever.
What are a' my kin to me,
A' their pride o' pedigree?
What were life, if wanting thee,
And what were death, if we maun sever!

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Robert Tannahill