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A wee bird cam tae oor ha' door,
He warbled sweet an early,
And aye the ower cam o his sang
Was " Wae's me for Prince Chairlie."
Oh, when I heard the bonnie bird,
The tears cam drappin' rarely,
I took my bannet aff my heid
For weel I lo'ed Prince Chairlie.
Quoth I, " My bird, my bonnie, bonnie bird,
Is that a sang ye borrow ?
Or is't some words ye've larned by rote
A lilt o' dule an sorrow ?"
" Oh, no, no no, " the wee bird sang,
I've flewn since mornin' early,
But sic a day o' wind an rain,
Oh, wae's me for Prince Chairlie."
" On hills that are by richt his ain,
He roves a lanely stranger,
On every side he's pressed by want,
On every hand by danger.
Yestreen I met him in a glen,
My hert near bursted fairly,
For sadly changed indeed was he,
Oh, wae's me for Prince Chairlie."
" Dark nicht cam on, the tempest roared,
Lood ower the hills and valleys,
An whaur was't that yer prince lay doon,
Whase hame should've been a palace ?
He rowed him in a Hielan plaid
That covered him but sparely,
And slept beneath a bush o' broom,
Oh, wae's me for Prince Chairlie."
Footnote : A Jacobite song to commemorate the escape to France by Bonnie Prince Charlie, Cameron of Lochiel and other leading Jacobites, this week in 1746. On 20 Setember 1746 they sailed from Loch nan Uamh to safety in France aboard the French ship L'Heureux. A cover of fog helped the French ship to elude nearby Hanoverian Government ships.

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