_W._ My sister Kate came o'er the hill, Wi' crowdie unto me, man; 35 She swore she saw them running still Frae Perth unto Dundee, man. The left wing gen'ral had na skill, The Angus lads had no good will That day their neighbours blood to spill; 40 For fear by foes that they should lose Their cogues of brose, all crying woes-- Yonder them goes, D'ye see, man? _T._ I see but few like gentlemen 45 Amang yon frighted crew, man; I fear my Lord Panmure be slain, Or that he's ta'en just now, man: For tho' his officers obey, His cowardly commons run away, 50 For fear the red-coats them should slay; The sodgers hail make their hearts fail; See how they scale, and turn their tail, And rin to flail And plow, man. 55 _W._ But now brave Angus comes again Into the second fight, man; They swear they'll either dye or gain, No foes shall them affright, man: Argyle's best forces they'll withstand, 60 And boldly fight them sword in hand, Give them a general to command, A man of might, that will but fight, And take delight to lead them right, And ne'er desire 65 The flight, man. But Flandrekins they have no skill[L67] To lead a Scotish force, man; Their motions do our courage spill, And put us to a loss, man. 70 You'll hear of us far better news, When we attack like Highland trews, To hash, and slash, and smash and bruise, Till the field, tho' braid, be all o'erspread, But coat or plaid, wi' corpse that's dead 75 In their cold bed, That's moss, man. _T._ Twa gen'rals frae the field did run, Lords Huntley and Seaforth, man; They cry'd and run grim death to shun, 80 Those heroes of the North, man; They're fitter far for book or pen, Than under Mars to lead on men; Ere they came there they might well ken That female hands could ne'er gain lands; 85 'Tis Highland brands that countermands Argathlean bands Frae Forth, man.