ON THE BATTLE OF SHERIFF-MUIR,§ BETWEEN THE DUKE OF ARGYLE AND THE EARL OF MAR. TUNE--' THE CAMERONIAN RANT.' "O CAM ye here the fight to shun, The red-coat lads, wi' black cockades, I wat they glanced twenty miles : They hack'd and hash'd, while broad-swords clash'd, And thro' they dash'd, and hew'd and smash'd, Till fey men died awa, man. Gilbert Burns says, "I am pretty well convinced this Poem is not my brother's, but more ancient than his birth;" but Allan Cunningham considers it a modified and improved version of Barclay's Rhyming Dialogue between William Lichladle and Tam Cleancogne on Sheriff-Muir. But had you seen the philibegs, And skyrin tartan trews, man, In lines extended lang and large, “O how deil, Tam, can that be true? The chase gaed frae the north, man: I saw mysel, they did pursue The horsemen back to Forth, man; And at Dumblane, in my ain sight, They took the brig wi' a' their might, And straught to Stirling wing'd their flight; But, cursed lot! the gates were shut, And monie a huntit, poor red-coat, For fear amaist did swarf, man.” My sister Kate cam up the gate Wi' crowdie unto me, man ; She swore she saw some rebels run Frae Perth unto Dundee, man : And so it goes, you see, man. They've lost some gallant gentlemen Amang the Highland clans, man; lord Panmure is slain, I fear my Or fallen in whiggish hands, man : And whigs to hell did flee, man. THE DUMFRIES VOLUNTEERS.§ TUNE PUSH ABOUT THE JORUM.' April, 1795. DOES haughty Gaul invasion threat? And volunteers on shore, Sir. Ere we permit a foreign foe Fal de ral, &c. Allan Cunningham says this song was written in April, 1795, and was sent by the Poet to the Dumfries Journal. O let us not like snarling tykes For never but by British hands The kettle o' the kirk and state, Our fathers' bluid the kettle bought, Fal de ral, &c. The wretch that wad a tyrant own, And the wretch his true-born brother, Who would set the mob aboon the throne, May they be damned together! Who will not sing," God save the King," O WHA IS SHE THAT LO'ES ME.‡ TUNE MORAG.' O WHA is she1 that lo'es me, CHORUS. O that's the lassie o' my heart, O that's the queen o' womankind, If thou shalt meet a lassie, In grace and beauty charming, Had ne'er sic powers alarming; O that's, &c. If thou hadst heard her talking, VAR In a copy of this song in Burns' own hand, the first line runs, "Wat ye wha that lo'es me," which agrees with the version in Thomson's Collection. |