Speed bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing, 

Onward, the sailors cry 

Carry the lad that's born to be king 

Over the sea to skye 



Loud the winds howl, loud the waves roar, 

Thunder clouds rend the air; 

Baffled our foe's stand on the shore 

Follow they will not dare 



Though the waves leap, soft shall ye sleep 

Ocean's a royal bed 

Rocked in the deep, Flora will keep 

Watch by your weary head 



Many's the lad fought on that day 

Well the claymore could wield 

When the night came, silently lay 

Dead on Culloden's field 



Burned are our homes, exile and death 

Scatter the loyal men 

Yet, e'er the sword cool in the sheath, 

Charlie will come again. 



*note:  This song commemorates the escape of Bonnie Prince Charlie from these

shores when Flora MacDonald took him, disguised as a serving maid,

from Uist to Skye in a small boat.

Flora is buried at Kilmuir on the north coast of Skye. Prince Charlie

near Rome where he was born.

Words by Sir Harold Boulton, Bart., 1884. Music by Annie 

MacLeod.