Page:Waes me for Prince Charly.pdf/3

 whar was't that your prince lay down, Wha's hame should been a palace? He row'd him in a highland plaid, Which cover'd him but sparely, slept beneath a bush o' broom— Oh I waes me for prince Charly."

But now the bird saw some red coat, 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; weel I mind the fareweel strain Was, "Waes me for prince Charly."



woo, tarry woo, woo is ill to spin it weel, card it weel, it well e'er ye begin 'tis carded, row'd and spun, the wark is haflens done; when woven, drest and clean, may be cleading for a Queen.

Sing my bonny harmless sheep, feed upon the mountains steep; sweetly as they go the winter's frost and snow; and hind, and fallow deer, by half so useful are;