CXLVIII
THE KING OVER THE WATER Bonnie Charlie’s noo awa’
Safely o’er the friendly main;
Mony a heart will break in twa,
Should he ne’er come back again.
Will ye no’ come back again?
Will ye no’ come back again?
Better lo’ed ye canna be—
Will ye no’ come back again?
The hills he trod were a’ his ain,
And bed beneath the birken tree;
The bush that hid him on the plain,
There’s none on earth can claim but he.
Sweet the laverock’s note and lang,
Liltin’ wildly up the glen;
But he sings nae ither sang
Than ‘Will ye no come back again?’
Whene’er I hear the blackbird sing
Unto the e’enin’ sinkin’ down,
Or merle that makes the woods to ring,
To me they hae nae ither soun’
Than—
Will ye no come back again?
Will ye no come back again?
Better lo’ed ye canna be—
Will ye no come back again?
Anonymous.
CXLIX
WELCOME, ROYAL CHARLIE! Oh! he was lang o’ comin’,
Lang, lang, lang o’ comin’,
Oh! he was lang o’ comin!
Welcome, Royal Charlie!
When he on Moidart’s shore did stand,
The friends he had within the land
Came down and shook him by the hand,
And welcomed Royal Charlie.
The dress that our Prince Charlie had,
Was bonnet blue, and tartan plaid;
And O! he was a handsome lad,
A true king’s son was Charlie.
But oh! he was lang o’ comin’,
Lang, lang, lang o’ comin’,
Oh! he was lang o’ comin’,
Welcome, Royal Charlie!
Anonymous. CL
CAM’ YE BY ATHOL?
Cam’ ye by Athol, lad wi’ the philabeg,
Down by the Tummel, or banks of the Garry?
Saw ye the lads wi’ their bonnets an’ white cockades,
Leaving their mountains to follow Prince Charlie?
Follow thee, follow thee, wha wadna follow thee?
Lang hast thou lo’ed an’ trusted us fairly!
Charlie, Charlie, wha wadna follow thee?
King o’ the Highland hearts, bonnie Prince Charlie!
I hae but ae son, my gallant young Donald;
But if I had ten they should follow Glengarry;
Health to Macdonald an’ gallant Clanronald,
These are the men that will die for their Charlie!
I’ll to Lochiel an’ Appin, an’ kneel to them;
Down by Lord Murray an’ Roy o’ Kildarlie;
Brave Macintosh, he shall fly to the fiel’ wi’ them;
These are the lads I can trust wi’ my Charlie.
Down thro’ the Lowlands, down wi’ the Whigamore,
Loyal true Highlanders, down wi’ them rarely;
Ronald an’ Donald drive on wi’ the braid claymore,
Over the necks o’ the foes o’ Prince Charlie!
Follow thee, follow thee, wha wadna follow thee?
Lang hast thou lo’ed an’ trusted us fairly!
Charlie, Charlie, wha wadna follow thee?
King o’ the Highland hearts, bonnie Prince Charlie!
Anonymous. CLI
LADY KEITH’S LAMENT
I may sit in my wee croo house,
At the rock and the reel to toil fu’ dreary;
I may think on the day that’s gane,
And sigh and sab till I grow weary.
I ne’er could brook, I ne’er could brook,
A foreign loon to own or flatter;
But I will sing a rantin’ sang,
That day our king comes owre the water.
O gin I live to see the day,
That I hae begg’d, and begg’d frae Heaven,
I’ll fling my rock and reel away,
And dance and sing frae morn till even:
For there is are I winna name,
That comes the reigning bike to scatter;
And I’ll put on my bridal gown,
That day our king comes owre the water.
I hae seen the gude auld day,
The day o’ pride and chieftain glory,
When royal Stuarts bare the sway,
And ne’er heard tell o’ Whig nor Tory.
Tho’ lyart be my locks and grey,
And eild has crooked me down—what matter?
I’ll dance and sing anither day,
That day our king comes owre the water.
A curse on dull and drawling Whig,
The whining, ranting, low deceiver,
Wi’ heart sae black, and look sae big,
And canting tongue o’ clishmaclaver!
My father was a good lord’s son,
My mother was an earl’s daughter,
And I’ll be Lady Keith again,
That day our king comes owre the water.
Anonymous.
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