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the BATTLE OF SHERRA-MUIR
the BATTLE OF SHERRA-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 mony a book did fa', man.
The great Argyle led on his files,
I wat they glanc'd for twenty miles;
They hough'd the clans like nine-pin kyles;
They hack'd and hash'd, while braid swords clash'd,
And through they dash'd, and hew'd, and smash'd,
Till fey men died awa, man.
But had ye 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 hastened to the charge,
Wi' Highland wrath, they frae the sheath
Drew blades o' death, till out o' breath,
They fled like frighted dows, man.
O, how de'il, Tam, can that be true?
The chace gade 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 mony a hunted, 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
To Perth and to Dundee, man.
Their left-hand general had nae skill;
The Angus lads had nae gude will,
That day their neibours' blude to spill;
For fear by foes that they should lose
Their cogs o' brose, they scar'd at blows,
And hameward fast did flee, man.
They've lost some gallant gentlemen
Amang the Highland clans, man;
I fear my Lord Panmure is slain,
Or in his en'mies hands, man.
Now wad ye sing this double flight,
Some fell for wrang, and some for right,
And mony bade the warld gude-night.
Sae pell and mell, wi' muskets knell,
How tories fell, and whigs to h-ll
Flew aff in frighted bands, man.
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