Air - 'When Wild Wars.'
There cam' a wee boatie owre the sea,
Wi' the winds an' waves it strove sairlie;
But oh! it brought great joy to me,
For wha was there but Prince Charlie.
The wind was hie, and unco chill,
An' a' things luiket barley;
But oh! we cam' with right good-will,
To welcome bonnie Charlie.

Wae's me, puir lad, yere thinly clad,
The waves yere fair hair weeting;
We'll row ye in a tartan plaid,
An' gie ye Scotland's greeting.
Tho' wild an' bleak the prospect round,
We'll cheer yere heart, dear Charlie;
Ye're landed now on Scottish grund,
Wi' them wha lo'e ye dearly.

O lang we've prayed to see this day;
True hearts they maist were breaking;
Now clouds an' storms will flee away,
Young hope against is waking.
We'll sound the Gathering, lang an' loud,
Yere friends will greet ye fairlie;
Tho' now they're few, their hearts are true;
They'll live or die for Charlie.