THE ROUGH TYKES O' TARLAND by JAMES CHAPMAN

WI' the last o' the James's
We saw our hopes perish,
Yet that name, o' a' names, is
The ane we maist cherish;
Though oor monarchs in thae days
Heard Gaelic but rarely,
It was welcome in wae days
To bonnie Prince Charlie.
When oor lads, led to death, wi'
The Prince sought a far-land,
Then the war-pipes ga'e breath wi'
"The Rough Tykes o' Tarland."
The rough tykes o' Tarland --
The dare-deils o' Tarland --
'Twas his cause clad the heath wi'
The rough tykes o' Tarland.

While on high ilka brow flung
The bonnet and feather,
And as dawn's ruddy glow flung
Its fire o'er the heather,
Round the auld parish kirk they
March'd thrice ere they parted,
And they swore on the dirk they
War' true and leal-hearted:
Then away o'er the hill, to
Their graves in a far-land,
While the echoes rang shrill to
"The Rough Tykes o' Tarland."
The rough tykes o' Tarland --
The dour loons o' Tarland --
But the cailachs spaed ill to
The rough tykes o' Tarland.

"'Tis but little we'll care for
Foreboding or omen,
When the claymore is bare for
The Sassanach foemen;
Let the Seer tell his dreams o'
The white rose down-trodden,
And the Baenshee's wild screams o'
'Culloden, Culloden!'
Bid him rave to the linn wi'
His havers frae star-land --
Bid the piper strike in wi'
'The Rough Tykes o' Tarland'!"
The rough tykes o' Tarland --
The blythe blades o' Tarland --
To be sad seems a sin wi'
The rough tykes o' Tarland.

Though the lassies war' wae, yet
The laddies war' lauchin',
They war' keen for the brae, yet
They paused at the clachan,
And the rough lip was wet wi'
The strong deoch-an-dhoras,
While the wailin's war' met wi'
The song's stormy chorus.
"To yer hames, maids and dames, and
Prepare wreath and garland;
For oor names shall be fame's, and
'The Rough Tykes o' Tarland'!"
The rough tykes o' Tarland --
The lost lads o' Tarland --
'Twas the last o' King James and
The rough tykes o' Tarland.

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