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(44) next ››› Page 40Page 40Battle of Killiecrankie

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I must aver, ye cannot err,
In breaking God's command, boys ;
If ye infringe bishops or kings,
Yon 've heaven in your hand, boys.
Suppose ye cheat, disturb the state,
And steep the land with blood,
If secretly your treachery
Be acted, it is good, boys.
The fiend himsel', in midst of hell,
The pope with his intrigues, boys
You'll equalise in forgeries :
Fair fa' you, pious Whigs, boys.
You lie, you lust, you break your trust,
And act all kind of evil ;
Your covenant makes you a saint,
Although you live a devil.
From murders too, as soldiers true,
You are advanced well, boys ;
You fought like devils, your only rivals,
When you were at Dunkeld, boys.
King William's hands, with lovely bands,
You're decking with good speed, boys ;
If you get leave you'll reach his sleeve,
And then have at his head, boys.
You're welcome, Jack, we'll join a plack,
To drink your last confusion,
That grace and truth you may possess
Once more without delusion. 1
1 This severe tirade upon the Presbyterians, from several allusions,
seems to have been written between the years 1 690 and 1 700.

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