Prince Charlie Stuart

Source: The Stone Fiddle by Paddy Tunney

Location: New Edition, page 177


Come join in lamentation, ye princes and nobles,

And kings of the highest degree,

And pity the lot of a poor forlorn maiden

Who mourns for her love night and day.

Although she’s but a lady of eighty pounds a year,

Both lords, dukes and earls to her they do draw near.

She distains them all with silence and she bids them disappear,

For so dear was my Charlie to me.

If you had seen my Charlie at the head of his army,

He was a pleasant sight to behold.

With his fine, silken hose on his bonnie brown leg,

And his buckles of the pure, shining gold.

The tartan my love wore was of yellow and green silk,

And his lovely skin in under it far whiter than the milk.

It’s no wonder there were thousands of highlanders killed

In restoring my Charlie to me.

O, my love was six feet two, without stocking or shoe,

In proportion my true love was built.

As I told you before upon Culloden Moor

Where the rbave highland army was kilt.

Prince Charlie Stuart was my true lover’s name.

He was champion of Scotland and son to King James,

And so far have they have banished him over the main,

And so dear was my Charlie to me.

But the grief and the sorrow that blights my tomorrow

Between and betwixt us does stand,

That my Charlie was brought up in the Catholic Religion

Ai I in the Church of Scotland.

But if that is all divides us, although my kin may mock,

I will go with my Charlie and worship at a Rock.

And I’ll become a member of Saint Peter’s flock,

And so dear was my Charlie to me.


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