Willie Macintosh

‘Turn, Willie Macintosh,
Turn, I bid you;
Gin ye burn Auchindown,
Huntly will head you.’--

‘Head me or hang me,
That canna fley me;
I’ll burn Auchindown
Ere the life lea’ me.’

Coming down Deeside,
In a clear morning,
Auchindown was in flame,
Ere the cock-crawing.

But coming o’er Cairn Croom,
And looking down, man,
I saw Willie Macintosh
Burn Auchindown, man.

‘Bonnie Willie Macintosh,
Whare left ye your men?’--
‘I left them in the Stapler,
But they’ll never come hame.’

‘Bonny Willie Macintosh,
Whare now is your men?’--
‘I left them in the Stapler,
Sleeping in their sheen.’