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 Tilly's firt Fury broke the Saxon Line,

And cry'd Victoria, all the Troops fall in,

With Blood and Terror glittering Eagles hine.

The Scots reerv'd for Dangers hither flye,

Dangers their Pot by Nation, taught to dy,

And wing'd with Rage they raviht Victory.

Not the unequal Squadrons, not the Day

Half let, not laughter'd Saxons in the way,

Not formidable Death, that Jet of War,

In whatoever hapes he durt appear,

Could their intrepid tedy Motion tay,

Nothing but laughterd Foes and Victory;

Surrounded, they with doubl'd Fury fight,

And plead with Danger, hine in naked white,