Page:Carle now the King's come.pdf/7

 And you who, on you bluidy braes, Compell'd the vanquish'd foeman's praise, Rank out—rank out—my gallant greys—
 * Carle, now the King's come.

Cock of the North, my Huntly bra', Where are you with my Forty-twa? Ah! waes my heart that ye're awa—
 * Carle now the King's come.

But yonder comes my canty Celts, With durk and pistol at their belts, Thank God, we've still some plaids and kilts—
 * Carle, now the King's come.

Come, cock your cap each Archer spark, For you're to guard, him light and dark; Faith, lads, I trow ye've hit the mark—
 * Carle, now the King's come.

Young Errol take the sword of stale, The sceptre Paviemorarchate; Knight Mareschals, see ye clear the gate—
 * Carle, now the King's come.

Kind Cummer, Leith, ye've been mis-set, But dinna be upon the fret— Ye'se get the handsel of him yet,
 * Carle, now the King's come.