Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. III. The Eighteenth Century: Addison to Blake
Adam Skirving (17191803)Johnnie Cope
C
Charlie, meet me an ye daur,
And I ’ll learn you the art o’ war,
If you ’ll meet wi’ me i’ the mornin.
Or are your drums a-beating yet?
If ye were wauking, I wad wait
To gang to the coals i’ the morning.
He drew his sword the scabbard from:
Come follow me, my merry merry men,
And we ’ll meet Johnnie Cope in the morning.
Come let us try both fire and sword;
And dinna flee away like a frighted bird,
That ’s chased from its nest in the morning.
He thought it wadna be amiss,
To ha’e a horse in readiness,
To flee awa’ in the morning.
The Highland bagpipes mak’ a din;
It is best to sleep in a hale skin,
For ’twill be bluidy in the morning.
They speer’d at him, Where ’s a’ your men?
The deil confound me gin I ken,
For I left them a’ i’ the morning.
To come wi’ the news o’ your ain defeat,
And leave your men in sic a strait,
Sae early in the morning.
Wi’ their claymores and philabegs;
If I face them again, deil break my legs—
So I wish you a’ gude morning.