III.

But had you seen the philibegs,
And skyrin tartan trews, man;
When in the teeth they dar'd our Whigs
And covenant true blues, man;
In lines extended lang and large,
When bayonets opposed the targe,
And thousands hasten'd to the charge,
Wi' Highland wrath they frae the sheath
Drew blades o' death, 'till, out o' breath,
They fled like frighted doos, man.

IV.

"O how deil, Tam, can that be true? The chase gaed frae the north, man; I saw myself, 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 winged their flight ; But, cursed lot! the gates were shut; And mony a huntit, poor red-coat,

For fear amaist did swarf, man!"

V.

My sister Kate cam up the gate

Wi' crowdie unto me, man;

She swore she saw some rebels run

Frae Perth unto Dundee, man :

Their left-hand general had nae skill,
The Angus lads had nae good will
That day their neebors' blood to spill;
For fear, by foes, that they should lose
Their cogs o' brose-all crying woes ;
And so it goes you see, man.

VI.

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,
Some fell for wrang, and some for right;
But mony bade the world guid-night;
Then ye may tell, how pell and mell,
By red claymores, and muskets' knell,
Wi' dying yell, the Tories fell,

And Whigs to hell did flee, man.

.

“This poem,” says Gilbert Burns, "I am pretty well convinced, is not my brother's, but more ancient than his birth." He might have known that Robert was offended with Barclay, a dissenting minister in Edinburgh, for having handled the Highland clans and chiefs rather rudely, in his rhyming dialogue between Will Lickladle and Tam Cleancogue, on the battle of Sherriff-muir, and hence his modified and improved version. Some of the verses of Barclay have both spirit and humour :

WILL.

But Flandrekins they have no skill
To lead a Scottish force, man;
Their notions do our courage spill,
And put us to a loss, man:
Ye'll hear of us far better news,

When we attack in Highland trews,

And hash, and slash, and smash, and bruise,
Till the field, though braid, be all o'erspread,
But coat or plaid, wi' corpses laid

In their cold bed-that's moss, man.

TAM.

Twa generals frae the field did run;
Lords Huntley and Seaforth, man;
They cry'd and run, grim death to shun,
Those heroes o' the north, man:

They're fitter far for book or pen,
Than, under Mars, to lead on men.

WILL.

The Camerons scoured as they were mad,
Lifting their neighbour's cows, man;
Mackenzie and the Stewart fled,

Without phil'beg or trews, man:
Had they behaved like Donald's core,
And killed all those came them before,
Their king had gone to France no more.
Then each Whig saint wad soon repent,
And straight recant the Covenant,

And rend it at the news, man."

It was not without reason that Burns felt the reverend rhymer had libelled the clans.

Their general was unacquainted with their peculiar mode of attack in the second rebellion, when Lord George Murray directed the charge, the result was different.

YOUNG JOCKEY.

Tune-“ Young Jockey.”

I.

YOUNG Jockey was the blythest lad
In a' our town or here awa:

Fu' blythe he whistled at the gaud,
Fu' lightly danced he in the ha'.
He roosed my een, sae bonnie blue,
He roosed my waist sae genty sma',
And ay my heart came to my mou'
When ne'er a body heard or saw.

II.

My Jockey toils upon the plain,

Thro' wind and weet, thro' frost and snaw:

And o'er the lea I leuk fu' fain,

When Jockey's owsen hameward ca'.

An' ay the night comes round again,
When in his arms he takes me a',

An' ay he vows he'll be my ain,

As lang's he has a breath to draw.

Johnson put the letter Z to this song, denoting that it was old, with additions. What is old of it may be found in Oswald's Collection, under the title of—

"Jockie was the blythest lad in a' our town."

With the exception of three or four lines, it is the work of Burns. The Poet often sat down to modify old strains to suit the music, and rose after having penned verses wholly, or almost wholly new. He had no pleasure in allowing an old song to pass through his hands without bestowing upon it a few characteristic touches, to mend the humour and improve the sentiment. Many instances of these felicitous changes have already been given ;— many more will yet appear. It will generally be found that he has bestowed life and truth wherever he made an alteration, and that he has obeyed the spirit of the old composition.