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His hands secure ahint his back,Syne on the horse he put the billy,His feet he tied beneath his belly;The dog, whom Donald mourned full sore,A frightfu sight of reeking gore,He on ahint the fellow placedAcross the hurdies of the beast.Syne, Donald's triumph to evince,He mounts his horse proud as a prince--Brandished the sword, and dared the bladeTo move his hands, feet, tongue, or head;That if he did, he warned him nowUp to the hilt he'd run him through.Sae on the road they moved alang,And Donald crooned a Highland sang;They reached the town, folks were surprisedThe rober soon was recognized;The magistrates they brawly kent him,For mair nor ance he'd been fornent them.For mony years his deeds of horrorHad kept baith far and near in terror,For whilk, whae'er wad apprehend him,And to the nearest prison send him,Wad he entitled to regard,And twenty guineas of reward,
