Classic Poem

The Scot

I A m the bonny Scot Sir,
 My name is Mickle John ;
'Tis I was in the Plot Sir
When first the Wars began:
I left the Court one thousand
Six hundred forty one;
 But since the flight
 At Worster fight
We are aw undone.
I serv'd my Lord and Master
When as he liv'd at home,
Untill by sad disaster
He receiv'd his doom;
 But now we fink,
 Uds bred I think
The Deel's gat in his room,
 He ne man spares,
 But stamps and stares
At all Christendom.

2.

I have travel'd mickle grounds,
Since I came from Worster bounds,
I have gang'd the jolly rounds
 Of the neighbouring Nations;
And what their opinions are
Of the Scotch and English war,
In geed faith I sal declare,
 And their approbations.
   Jockie swears
  He has his load,
  Bears the rod,
  Comes from God,
 And complaints go very odd
 Since the siege at Worster
  We were wounded
  Tag and rag,
  Foot and leg,
  Wemb and crag;
 Hark I hear the Dutchman brag,
 And begin to bluster.