When our hopes were killed on culloden field
crushed by swarthy whig chain and shot
unto Hanoverian oppression we swore to never yield
standing true men, for prince's head were ne'er bought
Here's to you my bonnie, bonnie prince
my heart and sword arm forever yours
no MacLean did ever from battle wince
whilst fighting on Drummosie's bloody tour
Grape shot, musket, bayonet and steel
hewed in twain brave Gaelic clans
claymore and targe sought Hanoverian to feel
groping vainly feeling the bayonet's ban
Alas, ochone our day is done
cessation of proud noble cause
what victory by our foes was won?
nowadays no Scot rings Culloden's applause!