Classic Poem

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.'
III

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

But 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.'