Winged Skye
When this body comes to die,
Set me on the headland high,
Where sun and rain go marching by,
Raven lord of wave and sky.
Eilean Mor Sgiathach
When I free my final breath,
Lay me down on gentle earth,
Where the dove shades holy garth,
And rivers run to meet the firth.
Eilean Mor Sgiathach
When my spirit passes over,
Float me on air’s mountain floor,
Where the feathered ramparts soar,
And the eagles golden hover,
Eilean Mor Sgiathach
