3
Great were the deeds that your forefathers wrought,
Which still are recorded in history's story;
And dear was the victory our enemies bought,
When a' the Blue Bonnets were led on to glory.
Then let us revenge our wrongs,
Claim what to us belongs;
Ages unborn yet will be our recorder.
When Scotia's sons leal and true,
Plumb'd in their bonnets blue,
Conquer'd the foe that usurp'd on the Border.
March, march, &c.
Come from the hills where your hirsels are grazing,
Come from the glen of the buck and the roe;
Come to the craig where the beacon is blazing,
Come with the buckler, the lance, and the long bow.
When trumpets are sounding,
War steeds are bounding,
Stand to your arms then, and march in good order;
England shall many a day.
Tell of the bloody fray,
When the blue bonnets come over the Border.
March, march, &c.
MY PEGGY IS A YOUNG THING.
My Peggy is a young thing,
Just entered in her teens,
Fair as the day, and sweet as May,
Fair as the day, and always gay.
My Peggy is a young thing,
And I am not very auld,
