JACOBITE SONGS 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? 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 Or merle that makes the woods to ring, Than Will ye no come back again? Will ye no come back again? CXLIX WELCOME, ROYAL CHARLIE! Oh he was lang o' comin', When he on Moidart's shore did stand, The dress that our Prince Charlie had, But oh! he was lang o' comin', 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? King o' the Highland hearts, bonnie Prince I hae but ae son, my gallant young Donald; 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? CLI Anonymous. LADY KEITH'S LAMENT I MAY sit in my wee croo house, I At the rock and the reel to toil fu' dreary; 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, 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 ane I winna name, That comes the reigning bike to scatter; gown, That day our king comes owre the water. I hae seen the gude auld day, The day o' pride and chieftain glory, 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, My mother was an earl's daughter, That day our king comes owre the water. Anonymous. CLII O'ER THE WATER TO CHARLIE We'll o'er the water, we'll o'er the sea, Come, boat me o'er, come row me o'er, I lo'e weel my Charlie's name, Though some there be abhor him; I swear and vow by moon and stars If I had twenty thousand lives, We'll o'er the water, we'll o'er the sea, We'll o'er the water to Charlie! Come weal, come woe, we'll gather and go, And live and die wi' Charlie ! Robert Burns. CLIII A SONG OF EXILE FRAE the friends and land I love Ease frae toil, relief frae care. Brightest climes shall mirk appear, And ilk loyal, bonnie lad Cross the seas, and win his ain! Robert Burns. CLIV KENMURE'S MARCH O, KENMURE'S on and awa, Willie, Success to Kenmure's band, Willie, Success to Kenmure's band! There's no a heart that fears a Whig That rides by Kenmure's hand. Here's Kenmure's health in wine, Willie, There ne'er was a coward 'o' Kenmure's blude, |