  I‘Turn, Willie Macintosh, Turn, I bid you; Gin ye burn Auchindown, Huntly will head you.’— II‘Head me or hang me, That canna fley me; I’ll burn Auchindown Ere the life lea’ me.’ IIIComing down Deeside, In a clear morning, Auchindown was in flame, Ere the cock-crawing. IVBut coming o’er Cairn Croom, And looking down, man, I saw Willie Macintosh Burn Auchindown, man. V‘Bonnie Willie Macintosh, Whare left ye your men?’— ‘I left them in the Stapler, But they’ll never come hame.’ VI‘Bonny Willie Macintosh, Whare now is your men?’— ‘I left them in the Stapler, Sleeping in their sheen FOOTNOTES: |
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