II.

The red-coat lads, wi' black cockades, To meet them were na slaw, man; They rush'd and push'd, and blude outgush'd, And mony a bouk did fa', man: The great Argyll led on his files, I wat they glanc'd for twenty miles: They hough'd the clans like nine-pin kyles, They hack'd and hash'd, while broad-swords clash'd, And thro' they dash'd, and hew'd, and smash'd, 'Till fey men died awa, man.