Tho’ wit and worth, in either sex,
     Saint Mary’s Isle can shaw that,
     Wi’ Dukes and Lords let Selkirk mix,
     And weel does Selkirk fa’ that. 
     For a’ that, and a’ that,
     Here’s Heron yet for a’ that! 
     The independent commoner
     Shall be the man for a’ that.

     But why should we to Nobles jouk,
     And is’t against the law, that? 
     For why, a Lord may be a gowk,
     Wi’ ribband, star and a’ that,
     For a’ that, and a’ that,
     Here’s Heron yet for a’ that! 
     A Lord may be a lousy loun,
     Wi’ ribband, star and a’ that.

     A beardless boy comes o’er the hills,
     Wi’ uncle’s purse and a’ that;
     But we’ll hae ane frae mang oursels,
     A man we ken, and a’ that. 
     For a’ that, and a’ that,
     Here’s Heron yet for a’ that! 
     For we’re not to be bought and sold,
     Like naigs, and nowt, and a’ that.

     Then let us drink—­The Stewartry,
     Kerroughtree’s laird, and a’ that,
     Our representative to be,
     For weel he’s worthy a’ that. 
     For a’ that, and a’ that,
     Here’s Heron yet for a’ that! 
     A House of Commons such as he,
     They wad be blest that saw that.

     Ballad Second—­Election Day

     Tune—­“Fy, let us a’ to the Bridal.”

     Fy, let us a’ to Kirkcudbright,
     For there will be bickerin’ there;
     For Murray’s light horse are to muster,
     And O how the heroes will swear! 
     And there will be Murray, Commander,
     And Gordon, the battle to win;
     Like brothers they’ll stand by each other,
     Sae knit in alliance and kin.

     And there will be black-nebbit Johnie,
     The tongue o’ the trump to them a’;
     An he get na Hell for his haddin’,
     The Deil gets na justice ava.

     And there will be Kempleton’s birkie,
     A boy no sae black at the bane;
     But as to his fine Nabob fortune,
     We’ll e’en let the subject alane.

     And there will be Wigton’s new Sheriff;
     Dame Justice fu’ brawly has sped,
     She’s gotten the heart of a Bushby,
     But, Lord! what’s become o’ the head? 
     And there will be Cardoness, Esquire,
     Sae mighty in Cardoness’ eyes;
     A wight that will weather damnation,
     The Devil the prey will despise.

     And there will be Douglasses doughty,
     New christening towns far and near;
     Abjuring their democrat doings,
     By kissin’ the-o’ a Peer: 
     And there will be folk frae Saint Mary’s
     A house o’ great merit and note;
     The deil ane but honours them highly—­
     The deil ane will gie them his vote!