Come o'er the stream, Charlie, dear Charlie, brave Charlie;

                                    Come o'er the stream , Charlie, and dine with McLean;

                                    And though you be weary, we'll make your heart cheery,

                                    And welcome our Charlie, and his loyal train.

                                    We'll bring down the track deer, we'll bring down the black steer,

                                    The lamb from the bracken, and the doe from the glen,

                                    The salt sea we'll harry, and bring to our Charlie

                                    The cream from the bothy and curd from the pen.

 

                                    Come o'er the stream, Charlie, dear Charlie, brave Charlie;

                                    Come o'er the stream, Charlie, and dine with McLean;

                                    And you shall drink freely the dews of Glen-Sheerly,

                                    That stream in the starlight when kings do not ken,

                                    And deep to your meed of the wine that is red,

                                    To drink to your sire, and his friend the McLean.

 

                                    Come o'er the stream, Charlie, dear Charlie, brave Charlie;

                                    Come o'er the stream, Charlie, and dine with McLean;

                                    O'er heath-bells shall trace you the maids to embrace you,

                                    And deck your blue bonnet with flowers of the brae;

                                    And loveliest Mari in all Glen McQuarry

                                    Shall lie in your bosom till break of the day.

 

                                    Come o'er the stream, Charlie, dear Charlie, brave Charlie;

                                    Come o'er the stream, Charlie, and dine with McLean;

                                    If aught will invite you, or more will delight you,

                                    'Tis ready, a troop of our bold Highlandmen,

                                    All ranged on the heather, with bonnet and feather,

                                    Strong arms and broad claymores, three hundred and ten!

 

 

Footnote : One of the many Jacobite songs penned by James Hogg, The Ettrick Shepherd (1770-1835), which we print to commemorate the victory of Jacobite forces led by Lord Lewis Gordon on 23 December 1745 at the Battle of Inverurie. This victory must have cheered the retreating Jacobite army which had re-entered Scotland on 20 December 1745, fording the spate-filled River Esk in the Borders. It is claimed that the Highlanders danced on the river bank to dry their kilts.