Page:Five exccllent (sic) new songs.pdf/3

They off in a flight, in dead of the night,
their wounded they left on the ſhore, man,
The French got ſuch claws by the valiant M‘Craws,
they thought they were devils indeed, man.
May our Highland Clans be honour’d with fame,
wherever their leaders command them,
And all who won’t join in this noble rhyme,
may infamy ever attend them.

Once who was great, full little am grown,
A mimick of multum in parvo,
Am buried alive in a cluſter of ſtone.
Some ſay, it is what I deſerve—O:
⟨In⟩ what they have ſaid, there is ſomewhat of truth,
I have been a wild and extravagant youth,
⟨So⟩me hundreds I have ſpent upon Rachel and Ruth,
For which I am clapt up in limbo.
The ſong that I ſing, it is abſolute true,
Mark well my open devotion,
⟨It i⟩s of myſelf, give the devil his due,
I hope I will make an impreſſion:
⟨On⟩ the hard’ned hearts of prodigal beaux.
Friends, let me tell you now, under the roſe,
Thoſe who love you beſt, they’ll prove your worſt foes,
If ever you get into limbo.
My father he left me five hundred a year,
My mother ſhe left me her jointure;
⟨But⟩ little of that from mortgage was clear,
⟨S⟩till I went to the bottle and pinter;
⟨Still⟩ day after day to the tavern I went,
⟨My⟩ land I ſold off, all my money I ſpent;