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Lord Rollo not fear'd,
Kintore and his beard;
Pitſligo and Ogilvie a' man;
And brothers Balfours,
They flood the firſt ſhourge
Clackmannan and Burleigh did claw, man,
And we ran, &c.
But Cleppan acted pretty,
And Struwan the witty,
A Poet that pleaſes us a', man:
For mine is but rhyme,
In reſpect of what's fine,
Or what he is able to draw, man:
So we ran, &c.
For Huntly and Sinclair,
They both play'd the tinclar,
With conſciences black like a craw, man;
Some Angus and Fife men
They ran for their life, man,
And ne'er a Lot's wife there at a', man.
And we ran, &c.
Then Lowrie the traitor,
Who betray'd his maſter,