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OR OF PRESTON-PANS. 169 |
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They loos'd with devilish thuds, man. Down guns they threw, and swords they drew
And soon did chace them aff, man; On Seaton-Crafts they buft their chafits, u
,And gart them rin like daft, man.
The bluff dragoons swore blood and 'oons,
They'd make the rebels run, man; And yet they flee when them they see,
And winna fire a gun, man: 20
They turn'd their back, the foot they brake,
Such terror seiz'd them a', man; Some wet their cheeks, some fyl'd their breeks,
And some for fear did fa', man.
The volunteers prick'd up their ears, as
And vow gin they were crouse, man; But when the bairns saw't turn to earn'st,
They were not worth a louse man. Maist feck gade hame; 0 fy for shame !
They'd better stay'd awa', man, 30
Than wi' cockade to make parade,
And do nae good at a', man.
Menteith the great, when hersell sh—, Un'wares did ding him o'er man;
33. The minister of Longformacus, a volunteer; who, happening to come, the night before the battle, upon a HighÂlander easing nature at Preston, threw him over, and carried his gun as a trophy to Cope's camp. |
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