Glen Collection of printed music > Printed text > Pocket songster, or, Caledonian warbler

378 %l^ POCKET sroN^stER;
But gallant Roger, like a sodger,
Stood and bravely fought, man ;
I'm wae to tell, at last he fell,
But mae down wi' him brought, man
At point of death, wi' his last breath,
(Some standing round in ring, man,)
On's back lying flat, he waved his hat,
And cry'd, God save the King, man.
Some Highland rogues, hke hungry dogs,
Neglecting to pursue, man,
About they faced, and in great haste
Upon the booty flew, man ;
And they, as gain, for all their pain,
Are deck'd wi' spoils of war, man ;
Fu' bauld can tell how her nainsel' ,
Was ne'er sae braw before, man. , _, ,
At the thorn tree, which you may see^ * mlnoiUt
Bewest the meadow-mill, man ; dmrnQiU haA
There mony slain lay on the plain, -''■' '^ -
The clans pursuing still, man.
Sic unco hacks, and deadly whacks, ^, -. .,^, •:,-
I never saw the like, man ; vJl^ ,..^1
Lost hands and feet cost them their deads,'
That fell near Preston-dyke, man.
That afternoon, when a' was dotiei - ■ 'loroiIT
I gaed to see the fi'ay, man; u/a^fiv beI;
But had I wist what after past, • --• ...old^adl biiA
I'd better staid awa, man; 131^ «^^)^?f'::^23