the jail,
And still the sobbing o' the sea might mix wi' their warlock wail,
But then came in black echty-echt, and bluidy echty-nine,
Wi' Cess, and Press, and Presbytery, and a' the dule sin' syne,
The Saints won free wi' the power o' the key, and cavaliers maun
pine!
It was Halyburton, Middleton, and Roy and young Dunbar,
That Livingstone took on Cromdale haughs, in the last fight of the
war:
And they were warded in the Bass, till the time they should be
slain,
Where bluidy Mitchell, and Blackader, and Earlston lang had lain;
Four lads alone, 'gainst a garrison, but Glory crowns their names,
For they brought it to pass that they took the Bass, and they held
it for King James!

It isna by preaching half the night, ye'll burst a dungeon door,
It wasna by dint o' psalmody they broke the hold, they four,
For lang years three that rock in the sea bade Wullie Wanbeard gae
swing,
And England and Scotland fause may be, but the Bass Rock stands for
the King!

There's but ae pass gangs up the Bass, it's guarded wi' strong
gates four,
And still as the soldiers went to the sea, they steikit them, door
by door,
And this did they do when they helped a crew that brought their
coals on shore.
Thither all had gone, save three men alone: then Middleton gripped