Page:Scottish glory.pdf/3

 Our brave lads there they suffer'd sair,

For want o' meat and claise, man.

Next owre to France they had to dance,

King Louis for to save, man;

An' mony a man back never cam,

But in it fand his grave, man.

Our bonnets blue, at Waterloo,

They suffer't warst ava' man;

The filthy loons o' French dragoons

They nearhand kill'd them a' man.

She form'd her there, in hollow square,

Her nainsel’ to defend, man;

And there she stood 'mang brither's blood,

Until her life did end, man.

Up cam the Greys wi' trotting pace,

Ahint the Frenchman's back, man:

Wi' bluid an' woun's they knapt their crowns,

An' kill'd them in a crack, man.

Our bare-hought boys then cheer'd for joy,

While on their knees they hurkle'd;

And loud did praise the Scottish Greys

Wha had their enemies conquer'd;

For, warna them they'd a' been slain,

As sure's they were alive, man;

For ilka man was o' the clan,

The French dogs they had five, man.

Wi' Highland rage they did engage,