Rally, whoever ye be;
For it's down Derry Down, and it's over the lea,
And it's saddle and bridle as sure as you're born!
Scattered and trampled and torn is the corn
As we ride to the war in the morning;
Down Derry Down!
Down Derry Down!
For we ride to the war in the morning!"
"Officer o' the guard! Turn out the guard!" bawled the sentry under my window. As I looked out the drums came crashing past, and behind them tramped the Highlanders, kilts and sporrans swinging, firelocks aslant and claymore blades shining in the sun.
It was the new regiment organized by Sir John, picked men all, and fierce partisans of the King, weeded from the militia regiment lately disbanded at Johnstown by order of Governor Tryon.