MARCH, march, Why, the deuce, do ye na march? Stand to your arms, my lads, Fight in good order, Front about, ye musketeers all, Till ye come to the English border: Stand till't, and fight like men, True gospel to maintain, The parliament's blyth to see us a' coming. When to the kirk we come, We'll purge it ilka room, Frae Popish relics, and a' sic innovations, That a' the warld may see, There's nane i' the right but we, Of the auld Scottish nation. Jenny shall wear the hood, Jocky the sark of God; And the kist fou of whistles, That make sic a cleiro, Our pipers braw, Shall hae them a', Whate'er come on it, Busk up your plaids, my lads, Cock up your bonnets. @3March, march, etc.@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN HOSPITAL: 21. ROMANCE by WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY THE ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH: BOOK 2. DIET by JOHN ARMSTRONG THE WIFE'S TREASURE by SABINE BARING-GOULD ANY LOVER TO HIS LASS by BERTON BRALEY BUSINESS IS BUSINESS by BERTON BRALEY THE STONECUTTER by VALERY YAKOVLEVICH BRYUSOV |