An Excellent New Ballad, Entituled,
Mars Lament for his Rebellion.
To the Tune of, Now comes on the Glorious Year.
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NOble Argyle when he went on,
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while Drums did rattle and Trumpet sound
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Come Brave Boys wel stand our Ground,
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for Three to One wel fight them.
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As soon as Mar did see the same,
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he cryed aloud with Grief and Woe,
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We are not able to fight our Foe,
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let us turn back with Mourning.
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Yonders Argyle that Champion great,
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who to our King hath no Respect,
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With Bombs and Cannons hel make us quake,
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Let us for Peace implore him.
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These Men with Courage bold went on,
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like Lyons to the Prey each one,
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For if to the King this thing be known,
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hel nobly reward us.
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Each Man unto the Spoyl he gat,
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Some got Plaids and Snuff mills in their Pack,
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Some had Targets, and some had none
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to keep them from the Volleys.
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Saith Mar I will to London go,
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Perhaps the King will Favour show,
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But Mercy I fear there will be none
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to such a Rebel as I am.
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I have wrought Folly in this Land,
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both Sword and Gun I did command,
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Out of every Place I fetcht a Clan,
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For to revenge this Quarrel.
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With Fear and Terror I may dread,
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what shall be the Exent of this Head
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Our Lands become a Field of Blood,
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its all through my Occasion.
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He brought us from our Native Place,
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here to suffer much Disgrace,
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His heavy Curse come on his Face,
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for he hath wroght our Ruine.
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All for our King we did appear,
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our Cries and Groans we thought hed hear,
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And for our Laws he would appear,
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yet he doth not regard us.
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Two Thousand Men from me are gone,
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to pull the King out of his Throne,
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But now they are taken every one,
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they are made to beg for Pardon.
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Here in St. Johnstoun I do ly,
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with Sighs and Groans and Tears I cry,
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I know that many of us shall dye,
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like Dogs we must be hanged.
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Here I am surrounded about,
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no Place nor corner can get out,
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For if to the Fields I should go out,
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theyre at my Heels pursuing.
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For if to the Highlands I should flee,
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there will be no Refuge for me,
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No Cove, no Grove, no Rock I see,
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to keep me from their Fury.
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Argyle he is so Valiant still,
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that many of my Men hel kill,
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Upon me he advances still,
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at length he will undo me.
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He with his Mighty Cannon Balls,
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hel batter down both Towns and Walls,
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And many of my Captains falls,
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they bleedingly before him.
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Certainly we have all been mad,
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first when that Bargain we had made;
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Hel send us neither Help nor Aid,
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to keep us from their Fury.
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My Rebellious Weapons Ill lay down,
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and will be Subject to the Crown,
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To all Generations its be known,
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that I shall still be Loyal.
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Our horrid Plots we did contrive,
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thinking the King for to deprive,
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But none of our Designs did thrive,
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they were so ill contrived.
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We were forty thousand in this Land,
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all bound by Association Band,
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We thought we would get Help at hand,
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but France has us deceived.
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A bold Attempt indeed we did make,
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when the Castle we designd to take,
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But all did prove to no Effect,
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our Plots were all discoverd.
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We know not which way now to turn,
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for our Magazines all destroyd and burnd,
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For all our Projects are backward turnd,
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weve wrought our own Confusion,
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