Oh! wha will dry the dreeping tear,
She sheds her lane, she sheds her lane?
Or wha the bonnie lass will cheer,
Of Livingstane, of Livingstane?
The crown was half on Charlie's head,
Ae gladsome day, ae gladsome day;
The lads that shouted joy to him
Are in the clay, are in the clay.

Her waddin' goun was wyl'd and won,
It ne'er was on, it ne'er was on,
Culloden field, his lowly bed,
She thought upon, she thought upon.
The bloom has faded frae her cheek
In youthfu' prime, in youthfu' prime;
And sorrow's with'ring hand has done
The deed o' time, the deed o' time.