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Rob Roy ſtood watch
On a hill, for to catch
The booty, for ought that I'ſaw, man;
For he never runch'd
From the place he was ſtaunchd,
Till no more to do there at a', man.
And we ran, &c.
So we all took the flight,
And Moubray, the wright;
Bat Lethern the ſmith was a braw man,
For he took the gout,
Which truly was wit,
Judging it time to withdraw, man.
And we run, &c.
And Trumpet Marine,
Whoſe breeks were not clean,
Thro' misfortune he happen'd to fa', man;
By ſaving his neck
His trumpet did break,
Came off without muſic at a', man.
And we ran, &c.
So there was ſuch a race,
Was ne'er in that place,
And as little Chace was at a' man;
From other they ran,