the highnd widow's ment
oh i am e to the low trie,
o, o, ochrie!
without a penny in my purse,
to buy a meal to me.
it was na sae in the highnd hills,
o, o, ochrie!
nae woman in the try wide,
sae happy was as me.
for then i had a score o'kye,
o, o, ochrie!
feeding on you hill sae high,
and giving milk to me.
and there i had three score o'yowes,
o, o, ochrie!
skipping on yon bonie knowes,
and casting woo' to me.
i was the happiest of a' the ,
sair, sair, may i repine;
for donald was the brawest man,
and donald he was mine.
till charlie stewart cam at st,
sae far to set us free;
my donald's arm was wahen,
for sd and for me.
their waefu' fate what need i tell,
right to the wrang did yield;
my donald and his try fell,
upon culloden field.
oh i am e to the low trie,
o, o, ochrie!
nae woman in the warld wide,
sae wretched now as me.