3
For our noble clans they boldly stood,
Upon the Haughs of Cromdale.
Sing, dandy didle, faty fidle, &c.
Our noble clans they could not stay,
Out o'er the hills they ran away,
And sore they do lament the day,
That e'er they came to Cromdale.
Sing, dandy didle, faty fidle, &c.
Says great Montrose, I must not stay,
Wilt thou direct the nearest way,
Out o'er the hills I'll go this day,
And see the Haughs of Cromdale.
Sing, dandy didle, faty fidle, &c.
Alas! my Lord, you are not strong,
You scarcely have two thousand men,
And there's twenty thousand on the plain,
Lies rank and file on Cromdale.
Sing, dandy didle, faty fidle, &c.
Says great Montrose, I will not stay,
So direct me the nearest way
Out o'er the hills I'll go this day,
And to the Haughs of Cromdale.
Sing dandy didle, faty fidle, &c.
They were at dinner every man,
When great Montrose upon them cam,
A second battle there began,
Upon the Haughs of Cromdale.
Sing, dandy didle, faty fidle, &c.
