At the end of the fray Still she languishing lay, 50 Then over the ocean they brought her, To her own native shore: Now they ne'er knew before That a woman, a woman had been in that slaughter. What she long had conceal'd 55 Now at length she reveal'd, That she was a woman that ventur'd; Then to London with care She did straitways repair, But she dy'd, oh she dy'd, e'er the city she enter'd. 60 When her parents beheld, They with sorrow was fill'd, For why, they did dearly adore her; In her grave now she lies, Tis not watery eyes, 65 No, nor sighing, nor sighing that e'er can restore her. A DIALOGUE BETWEEN WILL LICK-LADLE AND TOM CLEAN-COGUE, TWA SHEPHERDS, WHA WERE FEEDING THEIR FLOCKS ON THE OCHIL-HILLS ON THE DAY THE BATTLE OF SHERIFF-MOOR WAS FOUGHT. (See p. 156. From Ritson's _Scottish Songs_, ii. 67.) _W._ Pray came you here the fight to shun, Or keep the sheep with me, man? Or was you at the Sheriff-moor, And did the battle see, man? Pray tell whilk of the parties won? 5 For well I wat I saw them run, Both south and north, when they begun, To pell and mell, and kill and fell, With muskets snell, and pistols knell, And some to hell 10 Did flee, man. _T._ But, my dear Will, I kenna still, Whilk o' the twa did lose, man; For well I wat they had good skill To set upo' their foes, man: 15 The red-coats they are train'd, you see, The clans always disdain to flee, Wha then should gain the victory? But the Highland race, all in a brace, With a swift pace, to the Whigs disgrace, 20 Did put to chace Their foes, man. _W._ Now how diel, Tam, can this be true? I saw the chace gae north, man. _T._ But well I wat they did pursue 25 Them even unto Forth, man. Frae Dumblain they ran in my own sight, And got o'er the bridge with all their might, And those at Stirling took their flight; Gif only ye had been wi' me, 30 You had seen them flee, of each degree, For fear to die Wi' sloth, man.