His comrades, now each lay
In slumber, deep,
'neath the hills of home

now what of his future, where
does he turn, run to,
clans decimated, chased like a fox
by men who wear coats of red.
The English.

He held his brother,
As he took his last breath,
As death bore him away.

No shame, he fought as others
Fought, shoulder to shoulder
Alas the old Highland charge was
Met by a wall of cannon and
Musket fire

One by one they fell
But onward and onward they came
But who shall bear the blame

Who shall remember the name
And think of Culloden

Written by Dave Wilkie
July 02
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