As lang as I can wield my hand,
There’s nane but George shall reign, man.
Toll loll, &c.
Enough of this has shure been said,
Cry’d Cowardly Willy Dunn, man;
For should the Frenchmen come this way,
We’d be ready for to run, man.
Gad smash you for a fool, says Tom,
For if I could not use my gun,
I’d take my pick, I’d hew them down,