The heather has been his bed,The wastes of the islands knew
And the Highland hearts were true
To the bonny, the brave, the dear,
The royal, the hunted head.
An Old Song
Oh, it’s hame, hame, hame,
And it’s hame I wadna be,
Till the Lord calls King James
To his ain countrie,
Bids the wind blaw frae France,
Till the Firth keps the faem,
And Loch Garry and Lochiel
Bring Prince Charlie hame.
May the lads Prince Charlie led
That were hard on Willie’s track,
When frae Laffen field he fled,
Wi’ the claymore at his back,
May they stand on Scottish soil
When the White Rose bears the gree,
And the Lord calls the King
To his ain countrie!
Bid the seas arise and stand
Like walls on ilka side,
Till our Highland lad pass through
With Jehovah for his guide.
Dry up the River Forth,
As Thou didst the Red Sea,
When Israel cam hame
To his ain countrie. 1
Jacobite “Auld Lang Syne.”
Though now we take King Lewie’s fee
And drink King Lewie’s wine,
We’ll bring the King frae ower the sea,
As in auld lang syne.
For, he that did proud Pharaoh crush,
And save auld Jacob’s line,
Will speak to Charlie in the Bush,
Like Moses, lang syne.
For oft we’ve garred the red coats run,
Frae Garry to the Rhine,
Frae Baugé brig to Falkirk moor,
No that lang syne.
The Duke may with the Devil drink,
And wi’ the deil may dine,
But Charlie’s dine in Holyrood,
As in auld lang syne.
For he who did proud Pharaoh crush,
To save auld Jacob’s line,
Shall speak to Charlie in the Bush,
Like Moses, lang syne.
The Prince’s Birthday
(A new-born star shone, which is figured on an early Medal of Prince Charles.)
A wonderful star shone forth
From the frozen skies of the North
Upon Rome, for an Old Year’s night:
And a flower on the dear white Rose
Broke, in the season of snows,
To bloom for a day’s delight.
Lost is the star in the night,
And the Rose of a day’s delight
Fled “where the roses go”:
But the fragrance and light from afar,
Born of the Rose and the Star,
Breathe o’er the years and the snow.
The Tenth of June, 1715
(Being a Song writ for a lady born on June 10th, the birthday of his Most Sacred Majesty King James III. and VIII.)
Day of the King and the flower!
And the girl of my heart’s delight,
The blackbird sings in the bower,
And the nightingale sings in the night
A song to the roses white.
Day of the flower and the King!
When shall the sails of white
Shine on the seas and bring
In the day, in the dawn, in the night,
The King to his land and his right?
Day of my love and my may,
After the long years’ flight,
Born on the King’s birthday,
Born for my heart’s delight,
With the dawn of the roses white!
Black as the blackbird’s wing
Is her hair, and her brow as white
As the white rose blossoming,
And her eyes as the falcon’s bright
And her heart is leal to the right.
When shall the joy bells ring?
When shall the hours unite
The right with the might of my King,
And my heart with my heart’s delight;
In the dawn, in the day, in the night?
White Rose Day
’Twas a day of faith and flowers,
Of honour that could not die,
Of Hope that counted the hours,
Of sorrowing Loyalty:
And the Blackbird sang in the closes,
The Blackbird piped in the spring,
For the day of the dawn of the Roses,
The dawn of the day of the King!
White roses over the heather,
And down by the Lowland lea,
And far in the faint blue weather,
A white sail guessed on the sea!
But the deep night gathers and closes,
Shall ever a morning bring
The lord of the leal white roses,
The face of the rightful King?
Red and White Roses
Red roses under the sun
For the King who is lord of land;
But he dies when his day is done,
For his memory careth none
When the glass runs empty of sand.
White
One verse and the refrain are of 1750 or thereabouts. At Laffen, where William, Duke of Cumberland, was defeated and nearly captured by the Scots and Irish in the French service, Prince Charles is said to have served as a volunteer.
