| Ah! there it falls, and now 'tis dead, Poor harmless little thing; The shot went through its pretty head, And broke its little wing. |
| He looks of a strong hardy race, And his bonnet and jacket of plaid; With shrewdness and sense in his face, Proclaim him a true scottish lad. |
| Oh! say what stranger cause yet unexplor'd, Could make a gentle belle reject a lord; In tasks so bold, can little men engage, And in soft bosoms dwells such mighty rage. |
| I've fought at Egypt, Italy, Marengo, Waterloo; And now I'm helpless, left to die, In misery, want, and woe. |
