Page:Four favourite songs (2).pdf/5

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But rush like tempests on the foe,
 Thro’ mingled groans the war-note cryin,
  O! Duncan, Donald’s ready, &c.

A prince is come to claim his ain,
 A stem o’ Stewart, frielness Charlie;
What Highlan’ haun its blade wad hain,
 What Higlan’ heart behint wad tarry?
  O! Duncan, Donald’s ready, &c.

I see our hardy clans appear,
 The sun back frae their blades is beaming,
The southern trump falls on my ear,
 Their bannered lions proudly streaming.
  Now, Donald, Duncan’s ready!
  Now Donald, Duncan’s ready!
  Within his hand he graspes the brand,
  Fierce is the fray the field is bloody!

But lang shall Scotlan’ rue the day
 She saw her flag sae fiercely flyin;
Culloden’s hills were hills o’ wae;
 Her honour lost, her warriors dyin.
  Duncan now nae mair is ready!
  Duncan now nae mair is ready!