To continue the metaphor for a bit, here's some apropos consolation for any who don't get good news tomorrow:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Skye_Boat_Song

 Chorus:
 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.

 Loud the winds howl, loud the waves roar,
 Thunderclaps rend the air,
 Baffled, our foes stand by the shore,
 Follow they will not dare.

 Chorus
 
 Many's the lad fought on that day,
 Well the Claymore could wield,
 When the night came, silently lay
 Dead in Culloden's field.
 
 Chorus

 Though the waves leap, soft shall ye sleep,
 Ocean's a royal bed.
 Rock'd in the deep Flora will keep
 Watch o'er your weary head.

 Chorus

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

 Chorus