4
O'er bush, o'er bank o'er ditch, o'er stank
she flang amang them a' man,
The butter-box got mony knocks,
their rigging paid for a then,
They get ther paiks wi' sudden straik,
which to their grief they saw man,
Wi' clinkum—clankum o’er their crowns,
the lads began to fa' man.
Her ski t about, her l apt about,
and slan amang them a' man:
The English blades got broken heads,
thei heads were cleav'd in twa then.
The durk and dour made their last hour,
aud prov'd their final fa’ man;
They thought the devil had been there,
that play’d them sic a pa' man.
The Solemn League and Covenant,
came whigging up the hil man;
Thought Highland trews durst not refuse,
for to subscribe their bill then.
In Willie's name they thought nae ane,
dure stop their cou se at a’ man;
But her n'i sel wi’ mony a knock,
cry'd, Furigh figs awa’ many
Sir Evan Du, and his men true,
came linking up the brink man;
The Hogan Dutch they feared such,
they bred a horrid stink then.
