| Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing
|
| Onward! |
| the sailors cry;
|
| Carry the lad that’s born to be King
|
| Over the sea to Skye
|
| Loud the winds howl, loud the waves roar
|
| Thunderclouds rend the air;
|
| Baffled, our foes stand by the shore
|
| Follow they will not dare
|
| Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing
|
| Onward! |
| the sailors 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
|
| Watch by your weary head
|
| Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing
|
| Onward! |
| the sailors cry;
|
| Carry the lad that’s born to be King
|
| Over the sea to Skye
|
| Many’s the lad fought on that day
|
| Well the Claymore could wield
|
| When the night came, silently lay
|
| Dead on Culloden’s field
|
| Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing
|
| Onward! |
| the sailors cry;
|
| Carry the lad that’s born to be King
|
| Over the sea to Skye
|
| Burned are their homes, exile and death
|
| Scatter the loyal men;
|
| Yet ere the sword cool in the sheath
|
| Charlie will come again |