Page:Athole Highlanders.pdf/6

 Judas and My got yon place, For gold cannot restore them. Now, dad and son, I am to end, This new song that I have penn’d ; May all the traitors high be hanged, For Athole men abhors them.

As Cupid was a rambling, the day all along, And when he had done rambling, the night coming on: He knocked at the door, she awoke with surprize, Saying, who is there that calleth, Saying, &c. my rest for to destroy.

The Archer he answered, so meek ond so mild, Said he. I am a little unfortunate child; It’s a cold rainy night, and I am wet to the skin, And I have lost my way, And, &c. so pray let me in.