Ilk smack still did crack still,
Just like a cadger's' whip;
Then staggering and swaggering
He roar'd this ditty up:
TUNE-Soldier's Joy.
I AM a son of Mars,
Who have been in many wars,
And show my cuts and scars
Wherever I come;
This here was for a wench,
And that other in a trench,
When welcoming the French
At the sound of the drum.
Lal de daudle, &c.
My 'prenticeship I past
Where my leader breathed his last,
When the bloody die was cast
On the heights of Abram;
I servéd out my trade
When the gallant game was play'd,
And the Moro low was laid
At the sound of the drum.
Lal de daudle, &c.
I, lastly, was with Curtis,
Among the floating batt'ries,
And there I left for witness
An arm and a limb;
Yet, let my country need me,
With Elliot to head me,
I'd clatter on my stumps
At the sound of the drum.
Lal de daudle, &c.
And now, tho' I must beg,
With a wooden arm and leg,
And many a tatter'd rag
Hanging over my bum,
I'm as happy with my wallet,
My bottle and my callet,'
As when I used in scarlet
To follow the drum.
Lal de daudle, &c.
What tho', with hoary locks,
I must stand the winter shocks,
Beneath the woods and rocks
Oftentimes for a home:
When the tother bag I sell,
And the tother bottle tell,
I could meet a troop of hell
At the sound of the drum.
Lal de daudle, &c.
He ended; and the kebars' shook
Aboon the chorus roar;
While frighted rattons1 backward look,
And seek the benmost bore:5
A Merry-Andrew i' the nook,
He skirl'd out, "Encore!"
But up arose the martial chuck,
And laid the loud uproar:
I ONCE was a maid, tho' I cannot tell when,
And still my delight is in proper young men:
Some one of a troop of dragoons was my daddie,
No wonder I'm fond of a sodger laddie.
The first of my loves was a swaggering blade,
To rattle the thundering drum was his trade:
His leg was so tight, and his cheek was so ruddy,
Transported I was with my sodger laddie.
Sing, Lal de lal, &c.
But the godly old chaplain left him in the lurch,
The sword I forsook for the sake of the church;
A kind of cap.-2 Rafters.-3 Above.-4 Rats.-5 The innermost hole.
He ventured the soul, and I risk'd the body,
'Twas then I proved false to my sodger laddie.
Sing, Lal de lal, &c.
Full soon I grew sick of the sanctified sot,
The regiment at large for a husband I got;
From the gilded spontoon to the fife I was ready,
I asked no more but a sodger laddie.
But the peace it reduced me to beg in despair.
Till I met my old boy at Cunningham fair;
His rags regimental they flutter'd so gaudy,
My heart it rejoiced at my sodger laddie.
Sing, Lal de lal, &c.
And now I have lived, I know not how long,
And still I can join in a cup and a song;
But whilst with both hands I can hold the glass steady
Here's to thee, my hero, my sodger laddie.
Sing, Lal de lal, &c,
Poor Merry-Andrew, i' the neuk,'
Sat guzzling wi' a tinkler hizzie;2
They mind't na wha the chorus took,
Between themsels they were sae bizzy.
At length wi' drink and courting dizzy,
He stoiter'd' up and made a face;
Then turn'd and laid a smack on Grizzy,
Syne' tuned his pipes wi' grave grimace.
SIR WISDOM's a fool when he's fou,"
Sir Knave is a fool in a session;
He's there but a 'prentice I trow,
But I am a fool by profession.
My grannie she bought me a book,
And I held awa to the school;
I fear I my talent mistook,
But what will ye hae of a fool?
A nook, or corner.-2 Tinker wench.-3 Staggered.-4 Then.- Drunk.
For drink I would venture my neck;
A hizzie's the half of my craft;
But what could ye other expect
Of ane that's avowedly daft?1
I ance was tied up like a stirk,2
For civilly swearing and quaffing;
I ance was abused i' the kirk,
For touzling a lass i' my daffin.3
Poor Andrew that tumbles for sport,
Let naebody name wi' a jeer;
There's even, I'm tauld, i' the court
A tumbler ca'd the Premier.
Observed ye yon reverend lad
Make faces to tickle the mob;
He rails at our mountebank squad,
It's rivalship just i' the job.
And now my conclusion I'll tell,
For faith I'm confoundedly dry,
The chield that's a fool for himsel',
Gude L-d, he's far dafter than I.
Then neist outspak a raucle carlin,
Wha kent' fu' weel to cleeks the sterlin';
For monie a pursie she had hookit,
And had in monie a well been doukit;
Her dove had been a Highland laddie,
But weary fa' the waefu' woodie!"
Wi' sighs and sobs she thus began
To wail her braw John Highlandman.
TUNE-Oh an ye were dead, Gudeman.
A HIGHLAND lad my love was born,
The Lowland laws he held in scorn;
But he still was faithfu' to his clan,
My gallant, braw10 John Highlandman!
1 Crazy, or foolish.-2 A young bullock, or heifer.-3 Pastime, gayety.A greater fool.- 5 Next.—6 Rash, contemptuous term for a woman.Knew.-8 To lay hold of as with a hook.-9 The gallows, on which her husband had been hanged.-10 Brave.
Sing, hey, my braw John Highlandman,
Sing, ho, my braw John Highlandman;
There's not a lad in a' the lan'
Was match for my John Highlandman.
With his philibeg' an' tartan' plaid,
An' guid claymore down by his side,
The ladies' hearts he did trepan,
My gallant, braw John Highlandman!
Sing, hey, &c.
We rangéd a' from Tweed to Spey,
And lived like lords and ladies gay;
For a Lowland face ha fearéd none,
My gallant, braw John Highlandman.
Sing, hey, &c.
They banish'd him beyond the sea,
But ere the bud was on the tree,
Adown my cheeks the pearls ran,
Embracing my John Highlandman.
Sing, hey, &c.
But, oh! they catch'd him at the last,
And bound him in a dungeon fast;
My curse upon them every one,
They've hang'd my braw John Highlandman.
Sing, hey, &c.
And now, a widow, I must mourn
Departed joys that ne'er return;
No comfort but a hearty can,
When I think on John Highlandman.
Sing, hey, &c.
A pigmy scraper wi' his fiddle,
Wha used at trysts and fairs to driddle,"
Her strappin" limb and gaucy' middle
(He reach'd nae higher)
Had hol'd his heartie like a riddle,
An' blawn 't on fire.
A short petticoat worn by Highlandmen.-2 Checkered cloak, or upper garment.-3 -3 A broadsword.-4 Meetings appointed for dancing and frolic.• To move slowly.-6 Tall and handsome.-7 Large, jolly.
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