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For weel she kens her sons will bleed,
Or fix his throne right fairly.
Welcome Charlie, &c.
Amang the wilds o' Caledon,
Breathes there a base degenerate son,
Wha would not to his standard run,
And rally round Prince Charlie?
Welcome Charlie, &c.
Then let the flowing quaich go round,
And loudly let the Pibroch sound,
Till every glen and rock resound
The name o’ Royal Charlie.
Welcome Charlie o’er the main.
Our Highland hills are a' your ain;
Welcome to your throne again,
O welcome Royal Charlie.
THE DAY RETURNS.
The day returns, my bosom burns,
The blissful day we twa did meet;
Tho’ winter wild in tempest toil’d,
Ne’er summer sun was hauf sae sweet.
Than a’ the pride that loads the tide,
And crosses o’er the sultry line,
