Jacobite

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!

by Rab Macfadyen

Other poems of MACFADYEN (9)

Comments (1)

Crushed by swarthy wig chain and shot... a great line. A great poem and passionate to boot.