" Hot Trod." 291 



is faithful to fact and the feelings of those into whose 

 mouth it is put : 



" Waes me ! God wot, 



But the beggarlie Scot 

 Through the 'bateable land has prickit his way, 



An' ravaged wi' fire 



Peel, haudin', an' byre, 



Our nowte, sheep, and galloways a' taen awae ; 

 But by hagbut an' sword, ere he's back owre the Border, 

 We'll be het on his trod, an' aye set him in order. 



Nae bastles or peels 



Are safe frae the deils, 

 Gin the collies be oot or the lairds awae ; 



The bit bairnies an' wives 



Gang i' dreed o' their lives, 



For they scumfish them oot wi' the smoutherin' strae. 

 Then spear up the lowe ca' oor lads thegither, 

 An' we'll follow them hot trod owre the heather. 



Weel graith'd, sair on metal, 



Oor harness in fettle, 

 The reivers we sicht far ayont the wa', 



Gin we bring them to bay, 



Nae saufey we'll pay. 



We'll fangit, syne bang it we'se see them a' ; 

 Then on, lads, on for the trod is hot, 

 As oot ower the heather we prod the Scot. 



We'll harass them sairly, 



Nae hoo gie for parley. 

 Noo the spurs i' the dish for their hungrie wames, 



Do your slogans gie mouth, 



An' we'll sune lead them south. 



Gramerce gin we cross them, we'll crap their kames 

 Then keep the lowe bleezin', lads ca' to the fray, 

 Syne we're up wi' the lifters we'll gar them pay. 



Fae to fae steel to steel ; 

 Noo the donnert loons reel, 

 An' caitiffs cry ' Hoo ! ' but it's a' in vain : 



