Than they I ne'er o' braver heard,5
For they had a' baith wit and skill;
They proved right well, as I heard tell,
As they cam up o'er Loudon Hill.
Weel prosper a' the gospel lads,
That are into the west countrie,10
Aye wicked Claver'se to demean,
And aye an ill deid may he die!
For he's drawn up i' battle rank,
An' that baith soon an' hastilie;
But they wha live till simmer come,15
Some bludie days for this will see.
But up spak cruel Claver'se, then,
Wi' hastie wit, an' wicked skill;
"Gae fire on yon Westlan' men;
I think it is my sov'reign's will."20
But up bespake his Cornet, then,
"It's be wi' nae consent o' me!
I ken I'll ne'er come back again,
An' mony mae as weel as me.
"There is not ane of a' yon men,25
But wha is worthy other three;
There is na ane amang them a',
That in his cause will stap to die.
"An' as for Burly, him I knaw;
He's a man of honour, birth, and fame;30
Gie him a sword into his hand,
He'll fight thysell an' other ten."
But up spake wicked Claver'se, then,
I wat his heart it raise fu' hie!
And he has cried that a' might hear,35
"Man, ye hae sair deceived me.