| |
| DOES haughty Gaul invasion threat? | |
| Then let the louns beware, Sir; | |
| There’s wooden walls upon our seas, | |
| And volunteers on shore, Sir: | |
| The Nith shall run to Corsincon, | 5 |
| And Criffel sink in Solway, | |
| Ere we permit a Foreign Foe | |
| On British ground to rally! | |
| We’ll ne’er permit a Foreign Foe | |
| On British ground to rally! | 10 |
| |
| O let us not, like snarling curs, | |
| In wrangling be divided, | |
| Till, slap! come in an unco loun, | |
| And wi’ a rung decide it! | |
| Be Britain still to Britain true, | 15 |
| Amang ourselves united; | |
| For never but by British hands | |
| Maun British wrangs be righted! | |
| No! never but by British hands | |
| Shall British wrangs be righted! | 20 |
| |
| The Kettle o’ the Kirk and State, | |
| Perhaps a clout may fail in’t; | |
| But deil a foreign tinkler loun | |
| Shall ever ca’a nail in’t. | |
| Our father’s blude the Kettle bought, | 25 |
| And wha wad dare to spoil it; | |
| By Heav’ns! the sacrilegious dog | |
| Shall fuel be to boil it! | |
| By Heav’ns! the sacrilegious dog | |
| Shall fuel be to boil it! | 30 |
| |
| The wretch that would a tyrant own, | |
| And the wretch, his true-born brother, | |
| Who would set the Mob aboon the Throne, | |
| May they be damn’d together! | |
| Who will not sing “God save the King,” | 35 |
| Shall hang as high’s the steeple; | |
| But while we sing “God save the King,” | |
| We’ll ne’er forget THE PEOPLE! | |
| But while we sing “God save the King,” | |
| We’ll ne’er forget THE PEOPLE! | 40 |
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