Inglis Collection of printed music > Printed music > Scottish songs > Volume 2

( 9* )
And tell how Cope, the nations hope>
Did beat the rebel tory.
With fword and targe, in dreadful rage,
The mountain- fquires defcended ;
They cut and hack, — alack ! alack !• — <
The battle foon was ended :
And happy he who firft could flee ;
Both foldiers and commanders
Swore in a fright, they'd rather fight
In Germany or Flanders.
Some loft their wits, fome fell in fits,
Some ftuck in bogs and ditches ;
Sir John, aghaft, like light'ning part,
Difcharging in his breeches.
The blew-cap lads, with belted plaids,
Syne fcamper'd o'er the border,
And bold Carlifle, in humble ftile,
Obey'd their leaders order.
O Pattifon ! ohon ! ohon !
Thou figure of a mayor !
Thou blefs'd thy lot, thou wert no Scot,
And blufter'd like a player :
What haft thou done, with fword or gun,
To baffle the pretender ?
Of mouldy cheefe and bacon-greafe
Thou much more fit defender.