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The conteſt laſted fair and lang,
The pipers blew, the echoes rang,
The cannon roar’d the Clans amang,
Culloden’s awfu’ morning!
Duncan now nae mair ſeems keeu,
He’s loſt his dirk an’ tartan ſheen.
His banner ſtain’d, that ance was clean;
Foul fa’ that awfu’ morning.
But Scotland lang ſhall rue the cay,
She faw her flag ſae fiercely flee:
Culloden-hills were hills o’ wae.
It was an awfu’ morning!
Duncan now nae mair ſeems keen, &c.
Fair Flora’s gane her love to ſeek,
The midnight dew fa’s on her cheek;
What Scottiſh heart that will not weep
For Charlie’s fate that morning?
Duncan now nae mair ſeems keen, &c.
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SCOTS WHA HAE WI’ WALLACE
BLED.
Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled,
Scots wham Bruce has often lad,
We come to your gory bed,
