Wha, in his wae days,
     Were loyal to Charlie? 
     Wha but the lads wi’ the
     Bannocks o’ barley! 
     Bannocks o’ bear meal, &c.

The Highland Balou

     Hee balou, my sweet wee Donald,
     Picture o’ the great Clanronald;
     Brawlie kens our wanton Chief
     Wha gat my young Highland thief.

     Leeze me on thy bonie craigie,
     An’ thou live, thou’ll steal a naigie,
     Travel the country thro’ and thro’,
     And bring hame a Carlisle cow.

     Thro’ the Lawlands, o’er the Border,
     Weel, my babie, may thou furder! 
     Herry the louns o’ the laigh Countrie,
     Syne to the Highlands hame to me.

The Highland Widow’s Lament

     Oh I am come to the low Countrie,
     Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie! 
     Without a penny in my purse,
     To buy a meal to me.

     It was na sae in the Highland hills,
     Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie! 
     Nae woman in the Country wide,
     Sae happy was as me.

     For then I had a score o’kye,
     Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie! 
     Feeding on you hill sae high,
     And giving milk to me.

     And there I had three score o’yowes,
     Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie! 
     Skipping on yon bonie knowes,
     And casting woo’ to me.

     I was the happiest of a’ the Clan,
     Sair, sair, may I repine;
     For Donald was the brawest man,
     And Donald he was mine.

     Till Charlie Stewart cam at last,
     Sae far to set us free;
     My Donald’s arm was wanted then,
     For Scotland and for me.

     Their waefu’ fate what need I tell,
     Right to the wrang did yield;
     My Donald and his Country fell,
     Upon Culloden field.

     Oh I am come to the low Countrie,
     Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie! 
     Nae woman in the warld wide,
     Sae wretched now as me.

It Was A’ For Our Rightfu’ King

     It was a’ for our rightfu’ King
     We left fair Scotland’s strand;
     It was a’ for our rightfu’ King
     We e’er saw Irish land, my dear,
     We e’er saw Irish land.

     Now a’ is done that men can do,
     And a’ is done in vain;
     My Love and Native Land fareweel,
     For I maun cross the main, my dear,
     For I maun cross the main.

     He turn’d him right and round about,
     Upon the Irish shore;
     And gae his bridle reins a shake,
     With adieu for evermore, my dear,
     And adiue for evermore.

     The soger frae the wars returns,
     The sailor frae the main;
     But I hae parted frae my Love,
     Never to meet again, my dear,
     Never to meet again.

     When day is gane, and night is come,
     And a’ folk bound to sleep;
     I think on him that’s far awa,
     The lee-lang night, and weep, my dear,
     The lee-lang night, and weep.