Sir Harold Boulton, 2nd Baronet

When Adam and Eve were dispossessed Of the garden hard by Heaven, They planted another one down in the west, ’Twas Devon, glorious Devon!

Burned are our homes, exile and death, Scattered the loyal men. Yet ere the sword cool in the sheath, Charlie will come again.

Speed, bonnie boat, like a bird on the wing, ‘Onward,’ the sailors cry. Carry the lad that’s born to be king Over the sea to Skye.