The sodger frae the war returns,
The sailor frae the main;
But I hae parted frae my love,
Never to meet again, my love,
Never to meet again.

When day is gane, and nicht 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.

It's up yon heathery mountain,
And down yon scroggy glen,
We daurna gang a-milking
For Charlie and his men.
And Charlie he's my darling,
My darling, my darling;
And Charlie he's my darling,
The young Chevalier.

UP AND WAUR THEM A'.

From "Hogg's Jacobite Relics," 1821. Air-"Up and waur them a', Willie."

WHEN We went to the field o' war,
And to the weaponshaw, Willie,
Wi' true design to serve our king,

And chase our faes awa', Willie;
Lairds and lords came there bedeen,

And wow gin they were sma', Willie,
While pipers play'd frae right to left,
Fy, furich Whigs awa', Willie.
Up and waur them a', Willie,
Up and waur them a', Willie;

Up and sell your sour milk,

And dance, and ding them a', Willie.

And when our army was drawn up,
The bravest e'er I saw, Willie,
We did not doubt to rax the rout,
And win the day and a', Willie.
Out-owre the brae it was nae play
To get sae hard a fa', Willie,
While pipers play frae right to left,
Fy, furich Whigs awa', Willie.
Up and waur, &c.

But when our standard was set up,
So fierce the wind did blaw, Willie,
The golden knop down from the top
Unto the ground did fa', Willie.

Then second-sighted Sandy said,
We'll do nae gude at a', Willie,
While pipers play'd frae right to left,
Fy, furich Whigs awa', Willie.
Up and waur, &c.

When brawly they attack'd our left,
Our front, and flank, and a', Willie,
Our bauld commander on the green

Our faes their left did ca', Willie.
And there the greatest slaughter made
That e'er poor Tonald saw, Willie,
While pipers play'd frae right to left,
Fy, furich Whigs awa', Willie.

Up and waur, &c.

First when they saw our Highland mob,
They swore they'd slay us a', Willie ;
And yet ane fyl'd his breeks for fear,
And so did rin awa', Willie.
We drave them back to Bonnybrigs,
Dragoons, and foot, and a', Willie,
While pipers play'd frae right to left,
Fy, furich Whigs awa', Willie.

Up and waur, &c.

But when their general view'd our lines,
And them in order saw, Willie,

He straight did march into the town,
And back his left did draw, Willie.
Thus we taught them the better gate
To get a better fa', Willie,

While pipers play'd frae right to left,
Fy, furich Whigs awa', Willie.

Up and waur,

&c.

And then we rallied on the hills,
And bravely up did draw, Willie ;
But gin ye speer wha wan the day,
I'll tell ye what I saw, Willie :
We baith did fight, and baith were beat,
And baith did rin awa', Willie ;
So there's my canty Highland sang
About the thing I saw, Willie.

Up and waur,

&c.

O'ER THE WATER TO CHARLIE.

From "Hogg's Jacobite Relics," 1821.

COME, boat me ower, come, row me ower,
Come, boat me ower to Charlie;

I'll gie John Ross another bawbee
To ferry me ower to Charlie.

We'll over the water, and over the sea,
We'll over the water to Charlie;

Come weel, come woe, we'll gather and go,
And live and die wi' Charlie.

It's weel I lo'e my Charlie's name,
Though some there be that abhor him;
But, oh, to see Auld Nick gaun hame,
And Charlie's faes before him!

I swear by moon and stars sae bricht,
And the sun that glances early,
If I had twenty thousand lives,
I'd gie them a' for Charlie.

I ance had sons, I now hae nane;
I bred them, toiling sairly;
And I wad bear them a' again,
And lose them a' for Charlie!

THE WEE WEE GERMAN LAIRDIE.

From "Hogg's Jacobite Relics."

WHA the deil hae we gotten for a king,
But a wee, wee German lairdie?
And, when we gaed to bring him hame,
He was delving in his kail-yardie:
Sheughing kail, and laying leeks,
But the hose, and but the breeks;
And up his beggar duds he cleeks,

This wee, wee German lairdie.

And he's clapt down in our gudeman's chair,
The wee, wee German lairdie;
And he's brought fouth o' foreign leeks,
And dibbled them in his yardie.
He's pu'd the rose o' English loons,
And broken the harp o' Irish clowns;
But our thistle-tap will jag his thumbs,
This wee, wee German lairdie.

Come up amang our Highland hills,
Thou wee, wee German lairdie;
And see the Stuarts' lang kail thrive,
We dibbled in our yardie;

And if a stock ye dare to pu',

Or haud the yoking o' a plough,

We'll break your sceptre o'er your mou',
Thou wee bit German lairdie.

Our hills are steep, our glens are deep,
Nae fitting for a yardie;

And our Norland thistles winna pu',
Thou wee bit German lairdie:

And we've the trenching blades o' weir,
Wad prune ye o' your German gear;
We'll pass ye 'neath the claymore's shear,
Thou feckless German lairdie.

Auld Scotland, thou'rt ower cauld a hole
For nursin' siccan vermin;

But the very dougs o' England's court
They bark and howl in German.
Then keep thy dibble in thy ain hand,

Thy spade but and thy yardie;

For wha the deil hae we gotten for a king

But a wee, wee German lairdie?