A collection of ancient and modern Scottish ballads, etc

122
W. But now brave Angus conies again
Into the second fight, man
They swear they'll either dye or gain.
No foes shall them affright, man :
Argyle's best forces they'll withstand.
And boldly fight them sword in hand.
Give them a general to command,
A man of might, that will but fight.
• And
And take delight to lead them right,
ne'er desire
The flight, man.
But Flandrekins they have no skill
To lead a Scotish force, man
Their motions do our courage spill.
And put us to a loss, man.
You'U hear of us far better news.
When we attack like Highland trews.
To hash, and slash, and smash and bruise.
Till the field tlio' braid be all o'erspread.
But coat or plaid, wi' corpse that's dead
In their cold bed.
That's moss, man.
T. Twa gen'rals frae the field did run.
Lords Huntley and Seaforth, man
They cry'd and run grim death to shun.
Those heroes of the North, man
They're fitter far for book or pen.
Than under Mars to lead on men.
Ere they came there they might well ken
. That female hands could ne'er gain lands,
'Tis Highland brands that countermands
Argathlean bands
Frae Forth, man.
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