They had nae desire to face the fire; it was mair than men might do,
So they e’en sailed back in the auld coal-smack, a sorry and shame-faced crew,
And they hirpled doun to Edinburgh toun, wi’ the story of their shames,
How the prisoners bold had broken hold, and kept the Bass for King James.
King James he has sent them guns and men, and the Whigs they guard the Bass,
But they never could catch the Cavaliers, who took toll of ships that pass,
They fared wild and free as the birds o’ the sea, and at night they went on the wing,
And they lifted the kye o’ Whigs far and nigh, and they revelled and drank to the King.
Then Wullie Wanbeard sends his ships to siege the Bass in form,
And first shall they break the fortress down, and syne the Rock they’ll storm.
After twa days’ fight they fled in the night, and glad eneuch to go,
With their rigging rent, and their powder spent, and many a man laid low.
So for lang years three did they sweep the sea, but a closer watch was set,
Till nae food had they, but twa ounce a day o’ meal was the maist they’d get.
And men fight but tame on an empty wame, so they sent a flag o’ truce,
And blithe were the Privy Council then, when the Whigs had heard that news.
Twa Lords they sent wi’ a strang intent to be dour on each Cavalier,
But wi’ French cakes fine, and his last drap o’ wine, did Middleton make them cheer,
On the muzzles o’ guns he put coats and caps, and he set them aboot the wa’s,
And the Whigs thocht then he had food and men to stand for the Rightfu’ Cause.
So he got a’ he craved, and his men were saved, and nane might say them nay,
Wi’ sword by side, and flag o’ pride, free men might they gang their way,
They might fare to France, they might bide at hame, and the better their grace to buy,
Wullie Wanbeard’s purse maun pay the keep o’ the men that did him defy!
Men never hae gotten sic terms o’ peace since first men went to war,
As got Halyburton, and Middleton, and Roy, and the young Dunbar.
Sae I drink to ye here, To the Young Chevalier! I hae said ye an auld man’s say,
And there may hae been mightier deeds of arms, but there never was nane sae gay!
THREE PORTRAITS OF PRINCE CHARLES
1731
Beautiful face of a child,
Lighted with laughter and glee,
Mirthful, and tender, and wild,
My heart is heavy for thee!
1744
Beautiful face of a youth,
As an eagle poised to fly forth,
To the old land loyal of truth,
To the hills and the sounds of the North:
Fair face, daring and proud,
Lo! the shadow of doom, even now,
The fate of thy line, like a cloud,
Rests on the grace of thy brow!