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Song about the Prince in the heather. Despite the offer of a £30,000 reward, no Highlander betrayed him. (Apologies for the goof near the end: Jacobite chiefs executed after the 1715 Rising, not the '45.) A wee bird cam to our ha' door, He warbled sweet and early An' aye the dew come o' his lilt Was, "Waes me for Prince Charlie!" Oh! whan I heard the bonnie, bonnie bird', The tears cam drappin' rarely; I took my bonnet aff my head, For weel I lo'ed Prince Charlie. Said I, "My bird, my bonnie, bonnie bird, Is that some tale ye borrow? Or is it some words ye've learnt by heart, Or a lilt o' dule an' sorrow?" "Oh, no, no, no.!" the wee bird sang, "I've flown since mornin' early, On sic' a day o' wind and rain!- Oh! waes me for Prince Charlie." "On hills that are by right his ain, He wanders a lonely stranger; On ilka hand he's press'd by want- On ilka side by danger. Yestreen I saw him in a glen, My heart near burstit fairly, for sadly changed indeed was he- Oh! waes me for Prince charlie." "Dark night cam on, the tempest howl'd Loud o'er the hills and valleys; An' whare was't that your Prince lay doun, Whase hame should been a palace? He row'd him in a Highland plaid, That cover'd him but sparely, An' slept beneath a bush o' broom- Oh! waes me for Prince Charlie" [But now the bird saw some red-coats, An' he shook his wings wi' anger; "Oh! this is no a land for me, I'll tarry here nae langer." He hover'd on the wing a while, Ere he departed fairly; But weel I mind the farewell strain Was, "Waes me for Prince Charlie." ]