Transcription
THE White Regiment's LAMENT FOR THE DEATH O F Captain SARAH. As dandering on the Shoar of Leith,
Twa Wives wi Greeting shaw'd their Teeth,
Oh one says ane o're gane wi Grief,
we've lost our Head,
Whare shall we gang now for Relies,
Sin Sarah's Dead. Our Captain Sarah was a Wife,
The like o'er is nae very Rife,
Her very looks wou'd end a Strif,
wi Rock and [ ],
She drave through Thick and Thin w[ ],
and play'd the [ ]. In Leith she rang this mony year,
And aftimes made in it a Steer,
Whan things gae'd wrang and reacht her Ear,
without delay,
She'd buckle on her Warlike Geer,
and tack the way. Her Troops a at her Caa war ready,
And to the Cause she fought ay steddy,
With awfou Rock like Sovereign Lady,
she led the Van,
We follow'd tast wi Rungs fou sturdy,
and fear'd nae Man. The Warld may mind whan Meal was Dear
Whan Warldly Tykes for greed of Geer,
To forreign Lands resolved to steer,
the Staff of Life,
How she attackt them Front and Rear,
it doughty Wife. Upo the Shoar the fallows threw,
And back the Pocks of Meal we drew,
And there in state wi angry Brow,
she stood and Seld it,
The Carls lookt Bleat and hung their Mow,
as they'd been gelded. Whare ere her Cuntrys Cause did want her,
There Sarah on our head, wou'd stand her
Ground as Baldas Alexander,
for Kirk and State,
To a tane her Counsell had been better,
without Debate. The Union they had nere ha made,
Nor yet sae many wanted Bread,
Nor yet had Trading been so dead,
and scarce I trew
But wallawa she is cald as Lead,
to her adiew. If that we choose nae ane amang us,
To be our Head, the Loons will bang us,
And in disorder may oregang us,
great Sarab'sgane,
And now we have as well became us,
made our Mane. To fill her place I ken'nane ither,
Sae fit's John Thomson's Man's Wifes Mither,
A Stark Gamstary Wife and Clever,
can rax a Rung,
As Captain of the White well drink her
health till Bung. F I N I S,
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Probable date published:
1718 shelfmark: RB.l.106(090)
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