| Did we not beat,
|
| But recently,
|
| John Cope at Prestonpans,
|
| His infantry,
|
| Four thousand strong,
|
| And all the cavalry he had?
|
| With ninety score militiamen
|
| Picked from the mighty Gaels.
|
| We killed them and
|
| We captured them
|
| With clashing of claymore.
|
| O, waken up
|
| Full mightily
|
| Kindled with wrathful fire.
|
| And show them that
|
| Thy steel’s still keen
|
| In one more battle dire!
|
| O, rise again
|
| With spirits high,
|
| And sharp swords in your hands.
|
| Wipe every dirty rebel out
|
| Who takes King George’s side!
|
| Regiments of Prince Charles Stewart
|
| Let us draw close our ranks.
|
| Well sworded, shielded,
|
| Keen to march
|
| Under our flying flags.
|
| For all we’ve suffered
|
| At their hands,
|
| Hanging, beheadings, loot,
|
| Come, let us take our full revenge
|
| As we would always do.
|
| Remnant that
|
| Remains of us,
|
| Let us close up our ranks.
|
| With courage and
|
| With firm resolve
|
| To make our last attempt.
|
| Determined ne’er
|
| Again to turn
|
| Our backs upon our foes!
|
| Let’s rise for the crown’s true heir.
|
| Now is his only hour!
|
| Did not the Roman
|
| Cesars fail
|
| To conquer us in war?
|
| And shall we then
|
| Allow these beasts
|
| To down us with their blows?
|
| Come, summon up
|
| Your mighty strength,
|
| O warlike Scotia’s sons!
|
| Let us revenge
|
| On George’s folk
|
| The royal blood of clans.
|
| Rise again
|
| With spirits high,
|
| And sharp swords in your hands.
|
| Wipe every dirty rebel out
|
| Who takes King George’s side!
|
| Did we not beat,
|
| But recently,
|
| John Cope at Prestonpans,
|
| His infantry,
|
| Four thousand strong,
|
| And all the cavalry he had?
|
| With ninety score militiamen
|
| Picked from the mighty Gaels.
|
| We killed them and we captured them
|
| With clashing of claymore.
|
| Waken up
|
| Full mightily
|
| Kindled with wrathful fire.
|
| And show them that
|
| Thy steel’s still keen
|
| In one more battle dire! |