Mrs. Norman MacLeod Sr.
Sound the pibroch loud and high
From John O'Groats to the Isle of Skye!
Let all the Clans their slogan cry
And rise tae follow Charlie!
Chorus
Tha tighin fodham, fodham, fodham
Tha tighin fodham, fodham, fodham
Tha tighin fodham, fodham, fodham
To rise and follow Charlie!
And see a small devoted band
By dark Loch Shiel have ta'en their stand
And proudly vow w'heart and hand
To fight for Royal Charlie!
Frae every hill and every glen
Are gatherin' fast the loyal men
They grasp their dirks and shout again:
"Hurrah! for Royal Charlie!"
On dark Culloden's field of gore
Hark! They shout: "Claymore! Claymore!"
They bravely fight; what can they more?
They die for Royal Charlie!
How on the barren heath they lie
Their funeral dirge the eagles cry,
And mountain breezes o'er them sigh
What fought and died for Charlie.
No more we'll see such deeds again
Deserted is each Highland glen
And lonely cairns are o'er the men
Who fought and died for Charlie!
Note: "tha tighin fodham" is pronounced HA CHEEN FOAM and means "it comes upon me" or "I have the wish."