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THE FKAT OF SUPOET. 117 |
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But Toppet Hob o' the Mains had guesten'd in
my house by chance; I set him to wear the fore-door wi' the speir,
while I kept the back-door wi' the lance ; ia But they hae run him thro' the thick o' the thie,
and broke his knee-pan, And the mergh o' his shin-bane has run down
on his spur-leather whang: He's lame while he lives, and where'er he may
gang.
Fy, lads ! shout a' a' a' a' a',
My gear's a' gane. 20
But Peenye, my gude son, is out at the Hagbut-
head, His een glittering for anger like a fiery gleed; Crying—" Mak sure the nooks Of Maky's-muir crooks; For the wily Scot takes by nooks, hooks, and
crooks. 2f
Gin we meet a' together in a head the morn, We'll be merry men."
Fy, lads ! shout u a 3 it a t
My gear's a' gane.
There's doughty Cuddy in the Heugh-head, 30 Thou was aye gude at a need; With thy brock-skin bag at thy belt,
32. The badger-skin pouch was used for carrying ammunition.—S. |
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