WAES ME FOR PRINCE CHARLIE.
A wee bird cam' to our ha' door,
He warbled sweet and clearly,
And aye the o'ercome o' his sang
Was, 'Waes me for Prince Charlie.'
Oh, when I heard the bonnie bonnie bird,
The tears cam' drappin' rarely,
I took the bonnet aff my head,
For weel I lo'ed Prince Charlie.
He warbled sweet and clearly,
And aye the o'ercome o' his sang
Was, 'Waes me for Prince Charlie.'
Oh, when I heard the bonnie bonnie bird,
The tears cam' drappin' rarely,
I took the bonnet aff my head,
For weel I lo'ed Prince Charlie.
Quo' I, my bird, my bonnie bonnie bird,
Is that a tale ye borrow,
Or is't some words ye've learnt by rote,
Or a lilt o' dool and sorrow?
Oh no, no, no, the wee bird sang,
I've flown sin' morning early;
But sic a day of wind and rain—
Oh waes me for Prince Charlie.
Is that a tale ye borrow,
Or is't some words ye've learnt by rote,
Or a lilt o' dool and sorrow?
Oh no, no, no, the wee bird sang,
I've flown sin' morning early;
But sic a day of wind and rain—
Oh waes me for Prince Charlie.
On hills that are by right his ain,
He roams, a lonely stranger:
On every side he's press'd by want—
On every side by danger.
Yestreen I met him in a glen,
My heart maist bursted fairly,
For sadly chang'd indeed was he,
Oh waes me for Prince Charlie.
He roams, a lonely stranger:
On every side he's press'd by want—
On every side by danger.
Yestreen I met him in a glen,
My heart maist bursted fairly,
For sadly chang'd indeed was he,
Oh waes me for Prince Charlie.
Dark night cam' on, the tempest howl'd,
Out o'er thy hills and valleys;
And whare was't that your Prince lay down,
Whase hame should been a palace?
He row'd him in his Highland plaid,
Which cover'd him but sparely,
An' slept beneath a bush o' broom—
Oh waes me for Prince Charlie.
Out o'er thy hills and valleys;
And whare was't that your Prince lay down,
Whase hame should been a palace?
He row'd him in his Highland plaid,
Which cover'd him but sparely,
An' slept beneath a bush o' broom—
Oh waes me for Prince Charlie.