Page:Battle of Prestonpans (3).pdf/6

 Sic unco’ backs, and deadly whacks,

I never saw the like man,

Lost hands and heads, cost them their deeds,

that fell at Preston-Dyke man.

That afternoon when a’ was done,

I gade to see the fray man;

But I had wist what after past,

I’d better staid awa man:

On Seaton sands wi’ nimble hands,

they pick’d my pockets bare man:

But I wish ne'er to prie sic fear,

for a’ the sum and mair man.

Keen blaws the wind o’er Donnacht-head,

The snaw rives drives snellie thro’ the dale;

The Gaberlunzie irls my seeck

And, shiv ri g tells his warfu’ tale.

Cauld is the sight, let me in

A dinne let your minstrel fa’,

And di na let is his winning sheet

Be sae hi g but a wreath o’ snaw

Full ninety winters seen

And pip’d whar gor-cocks whirring flew,