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I've dar'd his face, and in this place,I scorn him yet again!Sae rantingly, &c.
Untie these bands from off my hands,And bring to me my sword,And there's no a man in all Scotland,But I'll brave at a word.Sae rantingly, &c.
I've liv'd a life of slurt and strife;I die by treacherie:It burns my heart I must departAnd not avenged be.Sae rantingly, &c.
Now farewell light, thou sunshine brightAnd all beneath the skyMay coward shame aye stain his name,The wretch that dares not die.Sae rantingly, &c.
O poortith Cauld.
O Poortith cauld and restless love,Ye break my peace between ye!Yet poortith a' I could forgive.If it 'twerna for my Jeanie.O'why should fate sic pleasure have,Love's dearest band untwining!Or why fae sweet a flow'r as loveDepend on fortunes shining.
This warld's wealth, when I think onIts pride, and a' the lave o't,Fie, fie, on silly coward man,That he should be the slave o't.O why should fate, &c.
