On the Battle of Sheriff-Muir

The red-coat lads, wi' black cockades,

To meet them were na slaw, man;

They rush'd and push'd, and blude outgush'd,

And monie a bouk did fa', man:

And great Argyle led on his files,

I wat they glanced twenty miles:

They hack'd and hash'd, while broadswords clash'd,

And thro' they dash'd, and hew'd and smash'd,

Till fey men died awa, man.

But had you seen the philibegs,

And skyrin tartan trews, man,

When in the teeth they dar'd our whigs,

And covenant true blues, man;

In lines extended lang and large,

When bayonets oppos'd the targe,

And thousands hasten'd to the charge,

Wi' Highland wrath they frae the sheath

Drew blades o' death, till, out of breath,

They fled like frighted doos, man.

'O how deil, Tam, can that be true?

The chase gaed frae the north, man:

I saw mysel, 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 guid-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.

They've lost some gallant gentlemen

Amang the Highland clans, man;

I fear my lord Panmure is slain,

Or fallen in whiggish hands, man:

Now wad ye sing this double fight,

Some fell for wrang, and some for right;

But monie bade the world guid-night;

Then ye may tell, how pell and mell,

By red claymores, and muskets' knell,

Wi' dying yell, the tories fell,

And whigs to hell did flee, man.