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O what, tell me what did your Highland Laddie wear,
O what &c.
A bonnet with a lofty plume, the gallant badge of war,
And a plaid across his manly breast, that soon will wear a star.

O where, tell me where did your Highland Laddie stay,
O where &c.
He dwelt beneath the Holly-tree, beside the rapid Spey,
And mony a blessing followed him that day he gaed away.

Ah suppose, ah suppose that some cruel cruel wound
Should pierce your Highland Laddie's breast and all your hopes confound;
The pipes should play a cheerful strain, the banners round him fly,
And the spirit of a Highland chief should glister in his eye.
The pipes &c.
And for his King and Country dear, with pleasure he will die.

But I hope yet to see him in Scotland's bonny bounds,
But I hope
His native land of liberty will nurse his glorious wounds
While wide through all the Highland hills his warlike name resounds.