海棠书屋 > 玄幻小说 > Poems and Songs of Robert Burns > 正文 The Battle Of Sherramuir
    the battle of sherramuir

    tuhe cameronian rant.”

    “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,

    and reekin-red ran mony a sheugh;

    my heart, for fear, gaed sough for sough,

    to hear the thuds, ahe cluds

    o' s frae woods, in tartan duds,

    wha gum'd at kingdoms three, man.

    , , , , &c.

    the red-coat ds, wi' bck cockauds,

    to meet them were na sw, man;

    they rush'd and push'd, and blude outgush'd

    and mony a bouk did fa', man:

    the great argyle led on his files,

    i wat they gwenty miles;

    they hough'd the s like nine-pin kyles,

    they hack'd and hash'd, while braid-swords, csh'd,

    and thro' they dash'd, and hew'd and smash'd,

    till fey men died awa, man.

    , , , , &c.

    but had ye seen the philibegs,

    and skyrin tartan trews, man;

    when ieeth they dar'd our whigs,

    and ant true-blues, man:

    in liended ng and rge,

    when baigis o'erpower'd the targe,

    and thousands hasten'd to the charge;

    wi' highnd wrath they frae the sheath

    drew bdes o' death, till, out o' breath,

    they fled like frighted dows, man!

    , , , , &c.

    “o how deil, tam,  that be true?

    the chase gaed frae the north, man;

    i saw mysel, they did pursue,

    the horsemen back to forth, man;

    and at dunbne, 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 mony a huntit poor red-coat,

    for fear amaist did swarf, man!”

    , , , , &c.

    my sister kate cam up the gate

    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 ds had nae gude will

    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.

    , , , , &c.

    they've lost some gallemen,

    amang the highnd s, man!

    i fear my lord panmure is sin,

    or fallen in whiggish hands, man,

    now wad ye sing this double fight,

    some fell f, and some fht;

    but mony bade the wude-night;

    then ye may tell, how pell and mell,

    by red cymores, and muskets knell,

    wi' dying yell, the tories fell,

    and whigs to hell did flee, man.

    , , , , &c.