132 SCOTT
They hadna ridden a mile, a mile,
A mile, but barely ten, When Donald came branking down the brae
Wi' twenty thousand men.
Their tartans they were waving wide, Their glaives were glancing clear,
The pibrochs rang frae side to side, Would deafen ye to hear.
The great Earl in his stirrups stood,
That Highland host to see : 'Now here a knight that's stout and good
May prove a jeopardie:
What wouldst thou do, my squire so gay,
That rides beside my reyne, Were ye Glenallan's Earl the day,
And I were Roland Cheyne ?
To turn the rein were sin and shame,
To fight were wondrous peril : What would ye do now, Roland Cheyne,
Were ye Glenallan's Earl? '
'Were I Glenallan's Earl this tide,
And ye were Roland Cheyne, The spur should be in my horse's side,
And the bridle upon his mane.
If they hae twenty thousand blades,
And we twice ten times ten, Yet they hae but their tartan plaids,
And we are mail-clad men.
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