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Flora McDonald ©

Susan Dzialdowski
Ohio, USA
2005

Her name was Flora McDonald
This fine lass from history
Ferried Bonnie Prince Charlie
‘cross a ragin’ sea

At first a wee bit wary
Na sure she wished to bother
But agreed to do it when persuaded
By fiancee and stepfather…

A plan was hatched
And in servant’s ‘guise
Prince Charlie fled
Towards the Isle of Skye

The tiny row boat floundered
It seemed as if for days
Through the howling winds
Upon tempest tossed waves

Landing was made at Rudha Phrionnsa
Now called Prince’s Point
By the mor'a they'd travel for Portree...
In a small cottage they'd hide for th'night

Upon reaching their destination
And takin' many a chance
Flora would r’turn back home…
The Prince would go on to France

They bid each other fare thee well
Then the prince reached in his pocket…
Gave Flora a gift to remember him
'Twas his portrait in a locket

She paid the price for courage
To the Tower she would go
Yet her name went down in history
For everyone to know


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