Poem by David Crawford

Verses on the Edinburgh Volunteers Receiving their Colours, September 26, 1794

While some for fame, and some for fun,
In high-style words mak speeches run,
I’ll, like my gude auld mother’s son,
	A story tell,
To praise the lads who sword or gun
	Do handle well.

When they come to George Heriot’s Green, 
Ilk ane appears sae neat an’ clean, 
I think I never yet ha’e seen
	Wha cou’d them match, 
Forsooth, they dazzle my twae een,
	An’ fancy catch:

Our Magistrates baith brisk and braw, 
An’ men o’ fortune there I saw,
Wi’ gentlemen that gie the law,
	An’ look right smart,  
An’ many others are nae slaw
	To play their part.

When foes abroad, an’ foes at hame, 
The last are twice as far to blame, 
To British isles they are a shame,
	An’ a disgrace,
But our bra fellows will them tame 
	In a short space.

These wretches are bewitched fools 
Led on by France to be their tools, 
To rob an’, murder are their rules,
	In spite o’ law, 
They’ll bring damnation to their souls;
	God save us a’.

Had I but siller I cou’d spare,
To reek me out and pay my lare, 
Wi’ loyal subjects I’d tak share,   
	For gude or ill, 
An’ go wi’ them, gif need require,
	Tho’ blude shou’d spill.

The fame o’ th’ Edinburgh Volunteers 
Will reach as far as latest years, 
An’ a’ like them who now appears
	For Britain’s cause, 
Will kill our enemies wi’ fears,
	To touch our laws.

God bless our King an’ Constitution, 
An’ a’ who hae a resolution,
To keep us back frae persecution,
	I them commend;
Now ye can see I’m by profession,
	The people’s friend.

1. An Answer to Will. M’Vitie
2. A Letter sent to a Gentleman, who had advised the Author to be a Volunteer, but was rejected on account of Age
3. On receiving a Shock from an Electric Machine, when Author was troubled with Pains
4. Ode the Recovery of His Majesty from His Late Illness, in the Year 1789

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