Ohon-a-righ

Ohon-a-righ !

Ohon-a-righ !
There's nought but alteration ;
The men that strove
Our throne to move,
And overturn the nation,
Are a' come round,
WT wit profound,
To those they branded sairly,
Woe to the guileful tongue that bred
This disappointment and this pain !
Cold-hearted villain ! on his head
A minstrel's malison remain '.
Guilt from his brow let ne'er depart,
Nor shame until his dying day ;
For he has broke the kindest heart
That ever bow'd to nature's sway '

An' show more might
For George's right
Than e'er they did for Charlie,
The day is past,
It was the last
Of suffering and of sorrow,
And o'er the men
Of northern glen
Arose a brighter morrow.
The pibroch rang
With bolder clang
Along the hills of heather ;
An' fresh an' strong
The thistle sprung
That had begun to wither !

Our sovereign gone
Whom we think on
As sons on sire regarded,
Of the plaided north
Beheld the worth
And loyalty rewarded.
Return'd their own,
And to the throne
Bound all their spirits lordly,
Now who will stand,
With dirk or brand,
As Donald does for Geordie ?

Beannaich-an-riofh '

Beannaich-an-righ !

Her nainsell now be praying,
Though standard praw,
And broadsword law,
She all aside be laying,
With Heelant might,
For Shorge's right,
Cot ! put she'll braolich rarely,
Gin lords her nain
Pe lords ackain,
That fell for sake of Charlie !