CXLIII Wae’s Me for Prince Charlie
A wee bird came to our ha’ door;
He warbled sweet and clearly;
And aye the o’ercome o’ his sang
Was ‘Wae’s me for Prince Charlie!’
Oh! when I heard the bonny, bonny bird, 5
The tears came drapping rarely;
I took my bonnet aff my head,
For weel I lo’ed Prince Charlie.
Quoth I; ‘My bird, my bonny, bonny bird,
Is that a tale ye borrow? 10
Or is’t some words ye’ve learned 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 o’ wind and rain— 15
Oh wae’s me for Prince Charlie!
O’er hills that are by right his ain
He roams a lonely stranger;
On ilka hand he’s pressed by want,
On ilka side by danger. 20
Yestreen I met him in the glen,
My heart near bursted fairly:
For sadly changed indeed was he—
Oh! wae’s me for Prince Charlie!
‘Dark night came on; the tempest howled 25
Out owre the hills and valleys;
And whare was’t that your Prince lay down,
Whase hame should be a palace?
He rowed him in a Highland plaid,
Which covered him but sparely, 30
And slept beneath a bush o’ broom—
Oh! wae’s me for Prince Charlie!’
But now the bird saw some red coats,
And he shook his wings wi’ anger:
‘Oh, this is no a land for me— 35
I’ll tarry here nae langer.’
A while he hovered on the wing,
Ere he departed fairly;
But weel I mind the farewell strain—
’Twas ‘Wae’s me for Prince Charlie!’ 40
William Glen.