The Battle Of Killie-Crankie

Clavers and his Highlandmen Came down upo' the raw, man, Who being stout, gave mony a clout; The lads began to claw then. With sword and terge into their hand, Wi which they were nae slaw, man, Wi mony a fearful heavy sigh, The lads began to claw then. O'er bush, o'er bank, o'er ditch, o'er stark, She flang amang them a', man; The butter-box got many knocks, Their riggings paid for a' then. They got their paiks, wi sudden straiks, Which to their grief they saw, man: Wi clinkum, clankum o'er their crowns, The lads began to fa' then. Hur skipt about, hur leapt about, And flang amang them a', man; The English blades got broken beads, Their crowns were cleav'd in twa then. The durk and door made their last hour, And prov'd their final fa', man; They thought the devil had been there, That play'd them sic a paw then. The Solemn League and Covenant Came whigging up the hills, man; Thought Highland trews durst not refuse For to subscribe their bills then. In Willie's name, they thought nag ane Durst stop their course at a', man, But hur-nane-sell, wi mony a knock, Cry'd, 'Furich--Whigs awa',' man. Sir Evan Du, and his men true, Came linking up the brink, man; The Hogan Dutch they feared such, They bred a horrid stink then. The true Maclean and his fierce men Came in amang them a', man; Nane durst withstand his heavy hand. All fled and ran awa' then. Oh' on a ri, Oh' on a ri, Why should she lose King Shames, man? Oh' rig in di, Oh' rig in di, She shall break a' her banes then; With furichinish, an' stay a while, And speak a word or twa, man, She's gi' a straike, out o'er the neck, Before ye win awa' then. Oh fy for shame, ye're three for ane, Hur-nane-sell's won the day, man; King Shames' red-coats should be hung up, Because they ran awa' then. Had bent their brows, like Highland trows, And made as lang a stay, man, They'd sav'd their king, that sacred thing, And Willie'd ran awa' then.