Chorus
Come thro' the heather, around him gather,
Ye're a' the welcomer early;
Around him cling wi' a' your kin;
For wha'll be King but Charlie?
Come thro' the heather, around him gather,
Come Ronald come Donald, come a' thegither,
And crown your rightfu' lawfu' King!
For wha'll be King but Charlie?

The Hieland clans, wi' sword in hand,
Frae John o' Groats to Airlie,
Hae to a man declared to stand
Or fa' wi' Royal Charlie.

Chorus

The lowlands a', baith great an' sma',
Wi' mony a Lord and Laird, hae
Declar'd for Scotia's king an' law,
An speir ye wha but Charlie.

Chorus

There's ne'er a lass in a' the lan'
But vows baith late an' early,
She'll ne'er to man gie her heart nor han',
Wha wadna fecht for Charlie.

Chorus