Robert Burns (1759–1796). Poems and Songs.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14. |
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| 287. Song—The Battle of Sherramuir |
| | | | | Tune—“The Cameronian Rant.” |
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| “O CAM ye here the fight to shun, | |
| Or herd the sheep wi’ me, man? | |
| Or were ye at the Sherra-moor, | |
| Or did the battle see, man?” | |
| I saw the battle, sair and teugh, | 5 |
| And reekin-red ran mony a sheugh; | |
| My heart, for fear, gaed sough for sough, | |
| To hear the thuds, and see the cluds | |
| O’ clans frae woods, in tartan duds, | |
| Wha glaum’d at kingdoms three, man. | 10 |
| La, la, la, la, &c. | |
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| The red-coat lads, wi’ black cockauds, | |
| To meet them were na slaw, man; | |
| They rush’d and push’d, and blude outgush’d | |
| And mony a bouk did fa’, man: | 15 |
| The great Argyle led on his files, | |
| I wat they glanced twenty miles; | |
| They hough’d the clans like nine-pin kyles, | |
| They hack’d and hash’d, while braid-swords, clash’d, | |
| And thro’ they dash’d, and hew’d and smash’d, | 20 |
| Till fey men died awa, man. | |
| La, la, la, la, &c. | |
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| But had ye seen the philibegs, | |
| And skyrin tartan trews, man; | |
| When in the teeth they dar’d our Whigs, | 25 |
| And covenant True-blues, man: | |
| In lines extended lang and large, | |
| When baiginets o’erpower’d the targe, | |
| And thousands hasten’d to the charge; | |
| Wi’ Highland wrath they frae the sheath | 30 |
| Drew blades o’ death, till, out o’ breath, | |
| They fled like frighted dows, man! | |
| La, la, la, la, &c. | |
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| “O how deil, Tam, can that be true? | |
| The chase gaed frae the north, man; | 35 |
| I saw mysel, they did pursue, | |
| The horsemen back to Forth, man; | |
| And at Dunblane, in my ain sight, | |
| They took the brig wi’ a’ their might, | |
| And straught to Stirling wing’d their flight; | 40 |
| But, cursed lot! the gates were shut; | |
| And mony a huntit poor red-coat, | |
| For fear amaist did swarf, man!” | |
| La, la, la, la, &c. | |
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| My sister Kate cam up the gate | 45 |
| Wi’ crowdie unto me, man; | |
| She swoor she saw some rebels run | |
| To Perth unto Dundee, man; | |
| Their left-hand general had nae skill; | |
| The Angus lads had nae gude will | 50 |
| That day their neibors’ blude to spill; | |
| For fear, for foes, that they should lose | |
| Their cogs o’ brose; they scar’d at blows, | |
| And hameward fast did flee, man. | |
| La, la, la, la, &c. | 55 |
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| They’ve lost some gallant gentlemen, | |
| Amang the Highland clans, man! | |
| I fear my Lord Panmure is slain, | |
| Or fallen in Whiggish hands, man, | |
| Now wad ye sing this double fight, | 60 |
| Some fell for wrang, and some for right; | |
| But mony bade the world gude-night; | |
| Say, pell and mell, wi’ muskets’ knell | |
| How Tories fell, and Whigs to hell | |
| Flew off in frighted bands, man! | 65 |
| La, la, la, la, &c. | |
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