“O cam ye here the fight to shun,
Or herdthe sheep wi’ me, man?
Or were ye at the Sherra-moor,
Or did the battle see, man?”
I saw the battle, sairand teugh,
And reekin-red ran mony a sheugh;
My heart, for fear, gaed soughfor sough,
To hear the thuds, and see the cluds
O’ clans frae woods, in tartan duds,
Whaglaum’dat kingdoms three, man.
La, la, la, la, &c.
The red-coat lads, wi’ black cockauds,
To meet them were naslaw, man;
They rush’d and push’d, and blude outgush’d
And mony a boukdid fa’, man:
The great Argyle led on his files,
I watthey glanced twenty miles;
They hough’d the clans like nine-pin kyles,
They hack’d and hash’d, while braid-swords, clash’d,
And thro’ they dash’d, and hew’d and smash’d,
Tillfeymen died awa, man.
La, la, la, la, &c.
But had ye seen the philibegs,
And skyrintartan trews, man;
When in the teeth they dar’d our Whigs,
And covenant True-blues, man:
In lines extended langand large,
When baiginets o’erpower’d the targe,
And thousands hasten’d to the charge;
Wi’ Highland wrath they frae the sheath
Drew blades o’ death, till, out o’ breath,
They fled like frighted dows, man!
La, la, la, la, &c.
“O how deil, Tam, can that be true?
The chase gaedfraethe north, man;
I saw mysel, they did pursue,
The horsemen back to Forth, man;
And at Dunblane, in my ainsight,
They took the brigwi’ a’their might,
And straughtto Stirling wing’d their flight;
But, cursed lot! the gates were shut;
And mony a huntit poor red-coat,
For fear amaistdid swarf, man!”
La, la, la, la, &c.
My sister Kate camup the gate
Wi’ crowdieunto me, man;
She swoorshe sawsome rebels run
To Perth unto Dundee, man;
Their left-hand general had nae skill;
The Angus lads had naegudewill
That day their neibors’ blude to spill;
For fear, for foes, that they should lose
Their cogs o’brose; they scar’d at blows,
And hameward fast did flee, man.
La, la, la, la, &c.
They’ve lost some gallant gentlemen,
Amangthe Highland clans, man!
I fear my Lord Panmure is slain,
Orfallen in Whiggish hands, man,
Now wadye sing this double fight,
Some fellfor wrang, and some for right;
Butmony badethe world gude-night;
Then ye may tell, how pell and mell,
Byredclaymores, and muskets knell,
Wi’dying yell, the Tories fell,
And Whigs to hell did flee, man.
La, la, la, la, &c.