A

FRAGMENT.

Tune, CILLICRANKIE.

I.

WHEN Guilford 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 maskin-pat,
And in the fea did jaw, man;
An' did nae lefs, in full Congress,

Than quite refuse our law, man.

II.

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 Quebec,

Montgomery like did fa', man,

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

III.

Poor Tammy G-ge within a cage
Was kept at Bofton ha', man;

Till Willie H--e took o'er the knowe

For Philadelphia, man:

Wi' fword an' gun he thought a fin

Guid Chriftian blood to draw, man;

But

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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-gue, an' Guilford too,

Began to fear a fa', man;

And S-ckv lle doure, wha ftood the ftoure,

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-ingb-m took up the game;
Till Death did on him ca', man;
When Sh-lb-rne meek held up his cheek,
Conform to Gospel law, man:

Saint Stephen's boys, wi' jarring noise,

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 cartes,

He swept the stakes 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, waur them a' man!"

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VIII.

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

A fecret word or twa, man;

While flee D-nd-s arous'd the clafs

Be-north the Roman wa', man:

An' Chatham's wraith, in heavenly 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,

Gowff'd Willie like a ba', man,

Till