"Your armour gude ye maunna show,
Nor ance appear like men o' weir;
As country lads be all array'd,
Wi' branks and brecham on ilk mare."
Sae now a' their horses are shod the wrang way,
And Hobie has mounted his grey sae fine;
Jock his lively bay, Wat's on his white horse behind,
And on they rode for the water o' Tyne.
At the Choler-ford they a' light down,
And there, wi' the help o' the light o' the moon,