Poems by Robert Burns
Presented by the RBWF
The Highland widow’s lament
OH, I am come to the low Countrie,
Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie!
Without a penny in my purse
To buy a meal to me.--
It was na sae in the Highland hills,
Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie!
Nae woman in the Country wide
Sae happy was as me.--------
For then I had a score o' kye,
Ochon, &c.----
Feeding on yon hill sae high,
And giving milk to me.--------
And there I had three score o' yowes,
Ochon, &c.----
Skipping on yon bonie knows,
And casting woo' to me.------
I was the happiest of a' the Clan,
Sair, sair may I repine;
For Donald was the brawest man,
And Donald he was mine.-----
Till Charlie Stewart cam at last,
Sae far to set us free;
My Donald's arm was wanted then
For Scotland and for me.-----
Their waefu' fate what need I tell,
Right to the wrang did yield;
My Donald and his Country fell
Upon Culloden field.---
Ochon. O, Donald, Oh!
Ochon, &c.----
Nae woman in the warld wide
Sae wretched now as me.----