Then doun she lighted frae the ship,
She lighted safe and sound;
And glad was our good Prince Albert
To step upon the ground.
"Is that your Queen, my Lord," she said,
"That auld and buirdly dame?
I see the crown upon her head;
But I dinna ken her name."
And she has kissed the Frenchman's Queen,
And eke her daughters three,
And gien her hand to the young Princess,
That louted upon the knee.
And she has gane to the proud castle,
That's biggit beside the sea:
But aye, when she thought o' the bairns at hame,
The tear was in her ee.
She gied the King the Cheshire cheese,
But and the porter fine;
And he gied her the puddock-pies,
But and the blude-red wine.
Then up and spak the dourest Prince,
An admiral was he;
"Let's keep the Queen o' England here,
Sin' better mayna be!
"O mony is the dainty king
That we hae trappit here;
And mony is the English yerl
That's in our dungeons drear!"
"You lee, you lee, ye graceless loon,
Sae loud's I hear ye lee!
There never yet was Englishman
That came to skaith by me.
"Gae oot, gae oot, ye fause traitour!
Gae oot until the street;
It's shame that Kings and Queens should sit
Wi' sic a knave at meat!"
Then up and raise the young French lord,
In wrath and hie disdain—
"O ye may sit, and ye may eat
Your puddock-pies alane!