This page has been validated.
8
Of every side he's prest by want,
On every side is danger.
"Yestreen I met bim in the glen,
My heart maist bnrstit fairly;
For sadly changed indeed was he—
Oh: waes me for prince Charly.
Dark night cam on the tempest roared
Loud our the hills and valleys:
An' whare was't that your prince lay down,
Whase hame should been a palace?
He rowd him in his Highland plaid,
Which covered him but sparely,
An' slept beneath a bush o'broom—
Oh, waes me for prince Charly.
But now the bird saw some red coat.
An' he shook his wings wi' anger—
"Oh this is no a land for me,
I'll tarry here nae langer."
He hover'd on the wing a while,
Ere he departed fairly:
But weel I mind the fareweel strain
Was, "Waes me for prince Charly."
FINIS.
