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Sae noble a look, sae princely an air,
Sae gallant an bold, saa young and sae fair!
Oh! did ye but see him, ye'd do as we’ve done,
Hear him but ance, to his standard you’ll run.
He’s owre, &c.
Sae gallant an bold, saa young and sae fair!
Oh! did ye but see him, ye'd do as we’ve done,
Hear him but ance, to his standard you’ll run.
He’s owre, &c.
Then draw the claymore for Charlie then fight
For your country, religion, and a’ that is right;
Were ten thousand lives now given to me,
I’d die as aft, for ane o’ the three!
He’s owre, &c.
For your country, religion, and a’ that is right;
Were ten thousand lives now given to me,
I’d die as aft, for ane o’ the three!
He’s owre, &c.
THE CAPTIVE MANIAC.
They bid me sleep, they bid me pray
They say my heart is warpt and wrung—
I cannot sleep on Highland brae;
I cannot pray in Highlang tongue.
But were I now where Allan glides,
Or heard my native Devon's tides
So sweetly would I rest and pray
That heaven would close my wintry day!
They say my heart is warpt and wrung—
I cannot sleep on Highland brae;
I cannot pray in Highlang tongue.
But were I now where Allan glides,
Or heard my native Devon's tides
So sweetly would I rest and pray
That heaven would close my wintry day!
’Twas thus my hair they bade me braid.
They bade me to church repair;
It was my bridal morn they said.
And my true love would meet me there:
But woe betide the cruel guile,
That drown'd in blood the morning smile!
And woe betide the fairy dream!
I only wakd to sob and scream.
They bade me to church repair;
It was my bridal morn they said.
And my true love would meet me there:
But woe betide the cruel guile,
That drown'd in blood the morning smile!
And woe betide the fairy dream!
I only wakd to sob and scream.
