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Cnoc An Tursa
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Fuigheall
Did we not beat,
But recently,
John Cope at Prestonpans,
His infantry,
Four thousand strong,
And all the cavalry he had?
With ninety score militiamen
Picked from the mighty Gaels.
We killed them and
We captured them
With clashing of claymore.
O, waken up
Full mightily
Kindled with wrathful fire.
And show them that
Thy steel's still keen
In one more battle dire!
O, rise again
With spirits high,
And sharp swords in your hands.
Wipe every dirty rebel out
Who takes King George's side!
Regiments of Prince Charles Stewart
Let us draw close our ranks.
Well sworded, shielded,
Keen to march
Under our flying flags.
For all we've suffered
At their hands,
Hanging, beheadings, loot,
Come, let us take our full revenge
As we would always do.
Remnant that
Remains of us,
Let us close up our ranks.
With courage and
With firm resolve
To make our last attempt.
Determined ne'er
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Again to turn
Our backs upon our foes!
Let's rise for the crown's true heir.
Now is his only hour!
Did not the Roman
Cesars fail
To conquer us in war?
And shall we then
Allow these beasts
To down us with their blows?
Come, summon up
Your mighty strength,
O warlike Scotia's sons!
Let us revenge
On George's folk
The royal blood of clans.
Rise again
With spirits high,
And sharp swords in your hands.
Wipe every dirty rebel out
Who takes King George's side!
Did we not beat,
But recently,
John Cope at Prestonpans,
His infantry,
Four thousand strong,
And all the cavalry he had?
With ninety score militiamen
Picked from the mighty Gaels.
We killed them and we captured them
With clashing of claymore.
Waken up
Full mightily
Kindled with wrathful fire.
And show them that
Thy steel's still keen
In one more battle dire!
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