XV.

Then let us toaft John Barleycorn,

Each man a glafs in hand; And may his great pofterity

Ne'er fail in old Scotland!

WHEN Guildford good our Pilot stood,

An' did our hellim thraw, man,
Ae night, at tea, began a plea,
Within America, man:
Then up they gat the mafkin-pat,
And in the fea did jaw, man;
An' did nae lefs, in full Congrefs,

Than quite refufe our law, man.

II.

Then thro' the lakes Montgomery takes,.

I wat he was na flaw, man;
Down Lowrie's burn he took a turn,

And C-rl-t-n did ca', man:
But yet, whatreck, he, at Quebeck,
Montgomery-like did fa', man,

Wi' fword in hand, before his band,
Amang his en'mies a', man,

4

III.

Poor Tammy G-ge within a cage
Was kept at Bofton-ha', man;
Till Willie He took o're the knowe
For Philadelphia, man;

Wi' fword and gun he thought a fin
Guid Chriftian bluid to draw, man;
But at New-York, wi' knife an' fork,
Sir Loin he hacked fma', man.

IV.

B-rg--ne gaed up, like fpur an' whip,
Till Frafer brave did fa', man;
Then loft his way, ae mifty day,
In Saratoga fhaw, man:

C-rnw-ll-s fought as lang's he dought,
An' did the Buckskins claw, man;
But Cl-nt-n's glaive frae ruft to fave
He hung it to the wa', man.

V.

Then M-nt-g-e an' Guildford too,

Began to fear a fa', man;

An' S-ckv-lle doure, wha ftood the toure,

The German Chief to thraw, man;

For Paddy B-rke, like-ony Turk,

Nae mercy had at a', man;

An' Charlie F-x threw by the box,
An' lows'd his tinkler jaw, man.

VI.

Then R-ck--ngh-m took up the game,
Till Death did on him ca', man;
When Sh-lb-rne meek held up his cheek,.
Conform to Gofpel law, man?

Saint Stephen's boys, wi' jarring noife,
They did his measures thraw, man,
For N-rth an' F-x united stocks,
An' bore him to the wa', man.

VII.

Then Clubs an' Hearts were Charlie's carts,

He fwept the flakes awa', man;
Till the Diamond's Ace, of Indian race,
Led him a fair faux pas, man:
The Saxon lads, wi loud placads,
On Chatham's Boy did ca', man;
An' Scotland drew her pipe an' blew,

Up, Willie, war them a', man!"

VIII.

Behind the throne then Gr-nw-lle's gone,

A fecret word or twa, man; While flee D-nd-s arots'd the clafs Be-north the Roman wa', man: An' Chatham's wraith, in heav'nly graith, (Infpired bardies faw, man;)

Wi' kindling eyes cry'd, Willie, rife!

• Would I hae fear'd them a', man!'

IX.

But, word an' blow, N-rth, F-x, and Co.
Gowffd Willie like a ba', man;

Till Suthron raife, and cooft their claise
Behind him in a raw, man:

An' Caledon threw by the drone,
An' did her whittle draw, man;

An' fwoor fu' rude, thro' dirt an' blood,
To make it guid in law, man.