“Yes, me cam frae ta Hielans, man,
An me cam a ta wey,
An she saw Macdonell an his men,
As they cam frae ta Skee.”
“Oh, was ye near Macdonell’s men?
Did ye their numbers see?
Come, tell to me, John Hielanman,
What micht their numbers be?”
“Yes, me was near, an near eneuch,
An me their numbers saw;
There was fifty thousand Hielanmen
A marching to Harlaw.”
“Gin that be true,” says James the Rose,
“We’ll no come meikle speed;
We’ll cry upo our merry men,
And lichtly mount our steed.”
“Oh no, oh no!” quo’ John the Gryme,
“That thing maun never be;
The gallant Grymes were never bate,
We’ll try what we can dee.”
As I cam on, an farther on,
An doun an by Harlaw,
They fell fu close on ilka side;
Sic fun ye never saw.
They fell fu close on ilka side,
Sic fun ye never saw;
For Hielan swords gied clash for clash,
At the battle o Harlaw.
The Hielanmen, wi their lang swords,
They laid on us fu sair,
An they drave back our merry men
Three acres breadth an mair.
Brave Forbës to his brither did say,
“Noo brither, dinna ye see?
They beat us back on ilka side,
An we’se be forced to flee.”
“Oh no, oh no, my brither dear,
That thing maun never be;
Tak ye your good sword in your hand,
An come your wa’s wi me.”