My Countrymen who do intend on Pirrating to go, Be sure what e're ye may pretend The certain end is wo, I knew't to sad Experience, The better may I tell, I thought my self in Sure defence, But suddenly I fell. Some often did me much perswad, No ill to me should come Altho' of this I should make trade Even till the day of doom. But Oh! these thoughts are nought, for now, (I tell it to my grief) I to the SCOTS am made to bow, and they bring no Relief. They thought the SCOTS would never dar An English to sentence, But they're beguiled very far, Tho they pretended Sence. They're SCOTS, not Sots, as they did say, Yes, Honest Men, and Bold; Else for the Money I would pay, my life to me they'd sold. They surely know how some them hate and here they're not behind. They ev'n would eat such as their Meat If occasion they could find. And tho' it's true, WALLACE is dead, Yet take no hope from that, For sure there are some in his stead, Who some way fill his Hat. And now for all the Gear I won I certainly must die, and nought will my offence attone but Hanging on a Tree, A Death! I'm sure found out at first for Dogs and not for men, I'd rather suffer what they list, than thus my Name to stain. But this they slighting justly 'ntend a Scar-crow me to make, To ev'ry Man who has a mind such course to undertake, What e're we think to do 'gainst them, I know they sure will stand: For I can say, and all my Men, GOD is at their Right Hand. Therefore my Country Men, I pray be war ye wrong the SCOTS, For GOD 'mongst them doth open Lay, what's done 'gainst them in Plots. And tho' small Faults they oft Remit, of their great Clemencie, Yet surely Medes, themselves they'l quite, in Crimes of this Degree.
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