Now a’ is done that men can do, And a’ is done in vain, My Love and Native Land fareweel, For I maun cross the main, My dear-- For I maun cross the main. He turn’d him right and round about Upon the Irish shore, And gae his bridle reins a shake, With adieu for evermore, My dear-- And adieu for evermore! The soger frae the wars returns, The sailor frae the main, But I hae parted frae my love Never to meet again, My dear-- Never to meet again. When day is gane, and night 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. _Robert Burns._ NAIRN CLVI CHARLIE IS MY DARLING _Oh! Charlie is my darling, my darling, my darling, Oh! Charlie is my darling, the young Chevalier!_ As he cam’ marchin’ up the street, The pipes played loud and clear, An’ a’ the folk cam’ rinnin’ oot To meet the Chevalier. Wi’ Hieland bonnets on their heads, An’ claymores bricht an’ clear, They cam’ to fecht for Scotland’s richt, An’ the young Chevalier. They’ve left their bonnie Hieland hills, Their wives and bairnies dear, To draw the sword for Scotland’s lord, The young Chevalier. _Oh! Charlie is my darling, my darling, my darling, Oh! Charlie is my darling, the young Chevalier!_ _Lady Nairn._ CLVII WHA’LL BE KING BUT CHARLIE? The news frae Moidart cam’ yestreen Will soon gar mony ferlie; For ships o’ war hae just come in, And landed Royal Charlie. _Come through the heather, around him gather, Ye’re a’ the welcomer early; Around him cling wi’ a’ your kin; For wha’ll be King but Charlie?_ The Hieland clans wi’ sword in hand, Frae John o’ Groats to Airlie, Hae to a man declared to stand Or fa’ wi’ Royal Charlie. There’s ne’er a lass in a’ the land, But vows both late an’ early, To man she’ll ne’er gie heart or han’, Wha wadna fecht for Charlie. Then here’s a health to Charlie’s cause, An’ be’t complete an’ early; His very name our hearts’ blood warms-- To arms for Royal Charlie! _Come through the heather, around him gather, Come Ronald, come Donald, come a’ thegither, And claim your rightfu’, lawfu’ King, For wha’ll be King but Charlie?_ _Lady Nairn._ GLEN CLVIII WAE’S ME FOR PRINCE CHARLIE A wee bird cam’ to our ha’ door, He warbled sweet an’ clearly, An’ aye the o’ercome o’ his sang, Was ‘Wae’s me for Prince Charlie!’ O! when I heard the bonnie, bonnie bird, The tears cam’ droppin’ rarely; I took my bonnet aff my head, For weel I lo’ed Prince Charlie.