The first stroke that George Wharton gae,
He struck him thro' the shoulder-bane;
The neist was thro' the thick o' the thigh;
He thought our Scotch lord had been slain.
"Oh! ever alak!" George Wharton cry'd,
"Art thou a living man, tell me?
"If there's a surgeon living can,
"He'se cure thy wounds right speedily."
"No more of that!" James Stuart said;
"Speak not of curing wounds to me!