Royal Charlie.
[Modern Jacobite song.]
The news frae Moidart cam' yestreen,
Will soon gar mony ferlie,
For ships o' war have just come in,
An' landed Royal Charlie!
Come through the heather,
Around him gather,
Ye're a' the welcomer early,
Around him cling wi' a' your kin,
For wha'll be king but Charlie?
Come through the heather, around him gather,
Come Ronald, come Donald, come a' thegither,
And crown him rightfu', lawful king,
For wha'll be king but Charlie?
The Highland clans wi' sword in hand,
Frae John o' Groats to Airly,
Ha'e to a man declared to stand
Or fa' wi' royal Charlie.
Come through, &c.
The Lowlands a', baith great an' sma',
Wi' mony a lord an' laird, ha'e
Declared for Scotia's king an' law,
An' spier ye wha but Charlie?
Come through, &c.
There's ne'er a lass in a' the land,
But vows baith late an' early,
To man she'll ne'er gi'e heart or hand,
Wha wadna fecht for Charlie.
Come through, &c.
Then here's a health to Charlie's cause,
An' be't complete and early,
His very name my heart's blood warms,—
To arms for royal Charlie!
Come through, &c.