The Skye Boat Song

Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on a wing,

Onward the sialor's cry.

Carry the lad that's born to be king

Over the sea to Skye.

Though the waves leap, soft shall ye sleep;

Ocean's a royal bed.

Rocked in the deep, Flora will keep

Watched by your weary head.


Many's the lad fought on that day

Well the claymore could weild.

When the night came, silently lay

Dead on Culloden's field.


Burned are our homes, exile and death

Scatter the loyal men.

Yet, 'ere the sword cool in the sheath

Charlie will come again!