The Burning of Auchindoun

As I cam’ in by Fiddichside, on a May morning
I spied Willie MacIntosh an hour before the dawning
Turn again, turn again, turn again, I bid ye
If ye burn Auchindoun, Huntly he will heid ye
Heid me or hang me, that shall never fear me
I'll burn Auchindoun tho' the life leaves me

As I cam’ in by Auchindoun on a May morning
Auchindoun was in a bleeze, an hour before the dawning
Crawing, crawing, for a' your crouse crawin'
Ye burnt yer crop an tint your wings an hour before the dawning

(music and lyrics: trad. Scottish, 18th century)