# Battle of the Boyn, o(r), King William crosing (sic) the Boyn Water/The Battle of Rosline

The BATTLE OF ROSLINE,
LEAVE off your tittle tattle, And I'll tell you of a battle, Where claymore and targe did rattle, At Rosline on the Lee. Ten thousand Scottish Laddies, Drest in their tartan plaidies, With blue bonnets cockadies A pleasant sight to see. Commanded by Sir Simon Fraser, Who was as bold a Ceasar, Great Alexander never, Could exceed that Hero bold, And by brave Sir John Cummin When he saw the foes coming, ​Set the bag pipes a booming Stand firm my hearts of gold. Ten thousand English advancing, See how their arms are glancing, We'll set them all a dancing, At Rosline on the Lee. Like furies our brave Highlanders Most boldly they engaged them, On field they durst no lonner stand, They then began to flee. They rusht into the battle, Made sword and targe to rattle Which made their foes to startle, The fell dead on the ground. Our army gave a loud huzza, Our Highland Lads have won the day On field they durst no longer stay, See how the cowards run. This battle was no sooner over, Than ten thousand of the other, Came marching in good order, Most boldly for to fight. Their colours were displaying, Their horse foaming and braying, Their Generals are saying, We'll soon put them to flight. But our bowmen gave a volley, Made them repent their folly, They soon turned melancholy, And stagger'd to and fro. Our spearmen they engaged Their rage they soon asswaged, Like lions our Heroes raged, Dealt death at every blow. For one hour and a quarter, Their was a bloody slaughter, ​Till the enemies cried quarter, Our General says Don't pursue. Ten thousand more are come in view, Take courage lads our hearts are true, And beat your enemies. Then thinking for to cross us, They rallying all their forces Both of foot and horses, To make the last attemp. The Scots cry'd out with brav'ry, We disdain their English knav'ry,
We'll ne'er be brought to slav'ry, 'Till our last blood is spent. With fresh courage they did engage, And manfully made for the charge, With their broad sword and the targe, Most boldly then they stood. The third battle it was very sore, Thousands lay reeking in their gore, The like was never done before, The fields did sweem with blood, The English could no longer stay, In great confusion fled away, And sore they do lament the day, That they came there to fight Cummin cry'd, Chace them, do not spare, Quick as the hound doe's chace the hare, And many one ta'ca prisoner, That day upon the fight. The Douglas, Campbells and the Hay, And Gordons from the water Spey, So boldly as they fought that day, With the brave Montegomerie. The Kerrs and Murrays of renown The Keiths, Boyds, and Hamilton, ​They brought their foes down to the ground', And fought with braverie. Sound, sound the music, sound it, Let hills and dales rebound it, Fill up the glass and round we't, In praise of our Heroes bold. If Scotsmen were always true, We make our enemies to rue, But alas! we're not all true blue, As we were in days of old.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.
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