Tune—­“Carron Side.”

     Frae the friends and land I love,
     Driv’n by Fortune’s felly spite;
     Frae my best belov’d I rove,
     Never mair to taste delight: 
     Never mair maun hope to find
     Ease frae toil, relief frae care;
     When Remembrance wracks the mind,
     Pleasures but unveil despair.

     Brightest climes shall mirk appear,
     Desert ilka blooming shore,
     Till the Fates, nae mair severe,
     Friendship, love, and peace restore,
     Till Revenge, wi’ laurel’d head,
     Bring our banished hame again;
     And ilk loyal, bonie lad
     Cross the seas, and win his ain.

Such A Parcel Of Rogues In A Nation

     Fareweel to a’ our Scottish fame,
     Fareweel our ancient glory;
     Fareweel ev’n to the Scottish name,
     Sae fam’d in martial story. 
     Now Sark rins over Solway sands,
     An’ Tweed rins to the ocean,
     To mark where England’s province stands—­
     Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!

     What force or guile could not subdue,
     Thro’ many warlike ages,
     Is wrought now by a coward few,
     For hireling traitor’s wages. 
     The English stell we could disdain,
     Secure in valour’s station;
     But English gold has been our bane—­
     Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!

     O would, or I had seen the day
     That Treason thus could sell us,
     My auld grey head had lien in clay,
     Wi’ Bruce and loyal Wallace! 
     But pith and power, till my last hour,
     I’ll mak this declaration;
     We’re bought and sold for English gold—­
     Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!

Ye Jacobites By Name

     Ye Jacobites by name, give an ear, give an ear,
     Ye Jacobites by name, give an ear,
     Ye Jacobites by name,
     Your fautes I will proclaim,
     Your doctrines I maun blame, you shall hear.

     What is Right, and What is Wrang, by the law, by the law? 
     What is Right and what is Wrang by the law? 
     What is Right, and what is Wrang? 
     A short sword, and a lang,
     A weak arm and a strang, for to draw.

     What makes heroic strife, famed afar, famed afar? 
     What makes heroic strife famed afar? 
     What makes heroic strife? 
     To whet th’ assassin’s knife,
     Or hunt a Parent’s life, wi’ bluidy war?

     Then let your schemes alone, in the state, in the state,
     Then let your schemes alone in the state. 
     Then let your schemes alone,
     Adore the rising sun,
     And leave a man undone, to his fate.

I Hae Been At Crookieden