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In the front of the battle array,
they cruize from their honoured station,
For vict’ry they will lead the way,
to Monsieur’s mortification.
Then Monsieur come if you dare, &c.
The ancient South Britons of Wales,
Morgan, and the Cock of Carmarthen;
And Taffey cries Cot splut her nails,
for a file bid ashue to hur Matam.
Hur's ready with hur sword and gun,
to give Monsieur a good threshing.
Till the last drop of hur blood is run,
hur will die before hur will be beaten.
Then Monsieur come if you dare, &c.
Says Sandy, if I stay at hame,
may the curse of my country attend me,
Says Jamie, if thou go alane,
may the heavens never befriend me ;
For my king and my country I'll fight,
so long as fighting’s in fashion,
The Thistle and Rose shall unite,
to give Monsieur a good threshing, &c.
Hark o’er Hibernia, and far away,
how the merry bagpipes are whistling,
The Highland Lads bonny and gay,
they run for their share of the tilting ;
To the Western waves they are bound,
where a deal of deep seas will affright ’em,
Where both French and Spaniards are found,
but with good heart & courage we'll fight’em.
Then Monsieur come if you dare, &c.
