Said a smile to a tear/The Highland Widow's Lament

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 nae 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 yon hill sae high,
And giving milk to me.

And there I had three score o’ ewes,
Ochon ochon, ochrie!
Skipping on yon bonnie knowes,
And casting woo to me.

I was the happiest of a’ the clan,
Sair, sair may I repine,
For Donald was the bravest 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 yieid;
My Donald and his country fell
Upon Culloden field!

I hae nocht left me aya,
Ochon, ochon, ochrie!
But bonnie orphan lad-weans twa,
To seek their bread wi’ me.'

I hae yet a tocher hand,
Ochon, ochon, oolirie.
My winsome Donald's durk an’ bran’,
Into their hands to gie:

There’s only ae blink o’ hope left,
To lighten my auld ee,
To see my bairns git: bluidie crowns,
To them gar't Donald die!