At Falkirk it was, in snow and sleat
And Hawley at Callander sleeping so sweet
We rested at Torwood, crossed at Dunipace
And so we went on, with all the great pace.
So Hawley came riding pell-mell, just awoke
As snowstorm it did really broke
We marched down the hill, our powder dry
And redcoats they formed, as usual, two lines.
He marschalled batallions on up the slope
And send the dragoons to hill in the hope
But that was in wain, can I tell you, my friends.
We gave them a volley, which tore them and rend.
Four scores saddles empty, dragoons they did race
And those who proceed, did meet our axes
The panic of dragoons it did sweeftly spread
Our regiments marched, killing Englishmen dead.
The snow fell hard, we halted advance
About four hundred dead saxons - we glanced.
Murray did forbid us to go too far
And in inclement weather victorious we are!