3 lines extended lang and large, When bayonets opposed the targe, And thousands hastened to the charge, Wi Highland wrath they frae the sheath Drew blades o‘ death,till, out o‘ breath. They fled like frighted doos, man.
O how deil Tam can that be true? The chase gaed frae the north, man; saw myself, they did pursue The horsemen back to Forth, man: And at Dumblane, in my ain sight, They took the brig wi' a‘ their might, And straught to Stirling wing'd their flight; But, cursed lot! the gates were shut, And monie a huntit, poor red-coat, For fear amaist did swarf, man.
My sister Kate cam up the gate Wi' crowdie unto me, man; She swore she saw some rebels run Frae Perth unto Dundee, man: Their left-hand general had nae skill, The Angus lads had nae gude will That day their neebors' blood to spill; for fear, by foes, that they should lose Their cogs o’ brose; all crying woes, And so it goes, you see, man:
Theyve lost some gallant gentlemen Amang the Highland clane man:
