But when our standard was set up,
So fierce the wind did blaw, Willie,
The golden knop down from the top
Unto the ground did fa', Willie.
Then second-sighted Sandy said,
We'll do nae gude at a', Willie,
While pipers play'd free right to left,
Fy, furich Whigs awa', Willie.
Up and waur, &c.
When brawly they attack'd our left,
Our front, and flank, and a', Willie,
Our bauld commander on the green,
Our faes their left did ca', Willie,
And there the greatest slaughter made
That e'er poor Tonald saw, Willie,
While pipers play'd frae right to left,
Fy, furich Whigs awa', Wiilie.
Up and waur, &c.
First when they saw our Highland mob,
They swore they'd slay us a', Willie;
And yet ane fyl'd his breeks for fear,
And so did rin awa', Willie.
We drave them back to Bonnybrigs,
Dragoons, and foot, and a', Willie,
While pipers play'd frae right to left,
Fy, furich Whigs awa', Willie.
Up and waur, &c.
But when their general viewed our lines,
And them in order saw, Willie,
He straight did inarch into the town,
And back his left did draw, Willie.
Thus we taught them the better gate
To get a better fa', Willie,
While pipers play'd frae right to left,
Fy, furich Whigs awa', Willie.
Up and waur, &c.
And then we rallied on the hills,
And bravely up did draw, Willie;
But gin ye speer wha wan the day.
I'll tell ye what I saw, Willie:
We baith did fight, and baith were beat,
And baith did rin awa', Willie.
So there's my canty Highland sang,
About the thing I saw, Wiilie.
Up and waur, &c.
Battle of Sheriff-Muir.
[This originally appeared in a broad-sheet, with the title of "A Dialogue between Will Lickladle and Tom Cleancogue, twa shepherds wha were feeding their flocks on the Ochil hills on the day the battle of Sheriff-muir was fought." It was written by the Rev. John Barclay, the founder of the religious sect called the Bereans, who was born in the parish of Muthill in 1734, and died in 1798. The tune is called "The Camerons' March" or " The Cameronian Kant," and is a very quick reel tune.]
Pray came you here the fight to shun,
Or keep the sheep wi' me, man?
Or was you at the Sherra-muir,
And did the battle see, man?
Pray tell whilk o' the parties wan,
For weel I wat I saw them run
Both south and north, when they begun
To pell, and mell, and kill, and fell,
With muskets snell and pistols knell,
And some to hell did flee, man.
Huh! hey dum dirrum hey dum dan,
Huh! hey dum dirrum dey dan,
Huh! hey dum dirrum hey dum dandy,
Hey dum dirrom dey dan.
But, my dear Will, I kenna still
Whilk o' the twa did lose, man;
For weel I wat they had gude skill
To set upo' their foes, man.
The redcoats they are train'd, you see,
The clans always disdain to flee;
Wha then should gain the victory?
But the Highland race, all in a brace,
With a swift pace, to the Whigs' disgrace,
Did put to chase their foes, man.
Huh! hey dum dirrum, &c.
Now, how deil, Tam, can this be true?
I saw the chase gae north, man.
But weel I wat they did pursue
Them even unto Forth, man.
Frae Dunblane they ran, i' my own sight,
And got o'er the bridge wi' a' their might,
And those at Stirling took their flight:
Gif only ye had been wi' me,
You had seen them flee, of each degree,
For fear to die wi' sloth, man.
Huh! hey dum dirrum, &c.
