A the Mauchline muir, where they were reviewed,
  Ten thousand men in armour shewed;
  But, ere they cam to the Brockie’s burn,
  The half o’ them did back return.

  General Dalyell, as I hear tell,
  Was our lieutenant general;
  And captain Welsh, wi’ his wit and skill,
  Was to guide them on to the Pentland hill.

  General Dalyell held to the hill,
  Asking at them what was their will;
  And who gave them this protestation,
  To rise in arms against the nation?

  “Although we all in armour be,
  It’s not against his majesty;
  Nor yet to spill our neighbour’s bluid,
  But wi’ the country we’ll conclude.”

  “Lay down your arms, in the king’s name,
  And ye shall all gae safely hame;”
  But they a’ cried out, wi’ ae consent,
  “We’ll fight a broken covenant.”

  “O well,” says he, “since it is so,
  A willfu’ man never wanted woe;”
  He then gave a sign unto his lads,
  And they drew up in their brigades.

  The trumpets blew, and the colours flew,
  And every man to his armour drew;
  The whigs were never so much aghast,
  As to see their saddles toom sae fast.

  The cleverest men stood in the van,
  The whigs they took their heels and ran;
  But such a raking was never seen,
  As the raking o’ the Rullien Green.

THE BATTLE OF LOUDONHILL.

The whigs, now become desperate, adopted the most desperate principles; and retaliating, as far as they could, the intolerating persecution which they endured, they openly disclaimed allegiance to any monarch who should not profess presbytery, and subscribe the covenant.—­These principles were not likely to conciliate the favour of government; and as we wade onward in the history of the times, the scenes become yet darker.  At length, one would imagine the parties had agreed to divide the kingdom of vice betwixt them; the hunters assuming to themselves open profligacy and legalized oppression; and the hunted, the opposite attributes of hypocrisy, fanaticism, disloyalty, and midnight assassination.  The troopers and cavaliers became enthusiasts in the pursuit of the covenanters If Messrs Kid, King, Cameron, Peden, &c. boasted of prophetic powers, and were often warned of the approach of the soldiers, by supernatural impulse,[A] captain John Creichton, on the other side, dreamed dreams, and saw visions (chiefly, indeed, after having drunk hard), in which the lurking holes of the rebels were discovered to his imagination.[B] Our ears are scarcely more shocked with the profane execrations of the persecutors,[C] than with the strange and insolent familiarity used towards the Deity by the persecuted fanatics.  Their indecent modes of prayer, their extravagant expectations of miraculous assistance, and their supposed inspirations, might easily furnish out a tale, at which the good would sigh, and the gay would laugh.