should grace the lass of albany.

but there's a youth, a witless youth,

that fills the place where she should be;

we'll send him o'er to his native shore,

and bring our ain sweet albany.

alas the day, and woe the day,

a false usurper wan the gree,

who now mands the towers and lands—

the royal right of albany.

we'll daily pray, we'll nightly pray,

on bended knees most fervently,

the time may e, with pipe an' drum

we'll wele hame fair albany.