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Brewster: Ballads and Songs of Indiana 327
3. Many's the lad fought on that day, Well the claymore could wield, When the night came, silently lay Dead on Culloden's field.
Speed, bonnie boat, <&c.
4. Burned are our homes; exile and death Scatter the loyal men.
Yet ere the sword cool in the sheath, Charlie will come again. Speed, bonnie boat, &c. |
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