Page:The Book of Scottish Song.djvu/188

170 In Borrowstounness,

He rides with disgrace,

Till his neck stand in need of a draw, man;

And then in a tether,

He'll swing from a ladder,

And go off the stage with a pa', man.

Rob Roy stood watch

On a hill, for to catch

The booty, for ought that I saw, man,

For he ne'er advanced

From the place he was stanced,

Till no more to do there at a', man.

So we all took the flight,

And Mowbray the wright,

But Lethem, the smith, was a braw man,

For he took the gout,

Which truly was wit,

By judging it time to withdraw, man.

And trumpet M'Lean,

Whose breeks were not clean,

Through misfortune he happen'd to fa', man;

By saving his neck,

His trumpet did break,

Came aff without music at a', man.

So there such a race was,

As ne'er in that place was,

And as little chase was at a', man;

From other they ran,

Without touk of drum,

They did not make use of a pa', man.

Whether we ran, or they ran,

Or we wan, or they wan,

Or if there was winning at a', man,

There's no man can tell,

Save our brave general,

Wha first began running awa', man.

Wi' the Earl o' Seaforth,

And the Cock o' the North;

But Florence ran fastest ava, man,

Save the laird o' Phineven,

Who swore to be even

Wi' any general or peer o' them a', man.

And we ran, and they ran; and they ran, and we ran;

And we ran, and they ran awa', man.

[ seems to be the second song in point of seniority on the subject of the battle of Sheriff-muir. Nothing is known of the author. We find great difference of reading in different copies, but here follow the version given in Hogg's Jacobite Relics. The chorus belongs to an old doggrel song, and the tune is very popular.]

we went to the field o' war,

And to the weaponshaw, Willie,

Wi' true design to serve our king,

And chase our faes awa', Willie;

Lairds and lords came there bedeen,

And wow gin they were sma', Willie,

While pipers play'd frae right to left,

Fy, furich Whigs awa', Willie.

Up and waur them a', Willie,

Up and waur them a', Willie,

Up and sell your sour milk,

And dance, and ding them a', Willie.

And when our army was drawn up,

The bravest e'er I saw, Willie,

We did not doubt to rax the rout,

And win the day and a', Willie.

Out-owre the brae it was nae play

To get sae hard a fa', Willie,

While pipers play frae right to left,

Fy, furich Whigs awa', Willie.

Up and waur, &c.