Scotland understand your fame,
For all the world would see your hame
Belong to no one but your own,
Your land is yours and yours alone.
Let no whig or muckle coof,
Tell you how to stay aloof,
Or use their threats that you afear,
The day of reckoning that draws near.
Some of you canna see
The chance of making history,
To take the pen and have your say,
To cling on tight or slip away.
There are a few with woe and dread,
Who think the union may be dead,
But unions are no good if ye,
Decide together to be free.
And if a man to keep their station,
Could or would betray their nation,
They are nothing more than just a tramp
A gowk bought for a “guinea stamp”.
For those of you who do not despair,
At the stone of scone beneath the chair.
Or who don’t consider Bruce their own,
But rather bow to a different throne.
“Your bought and sold for English gold
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation”
Ah Scotland though I love you dear
To make your choice you must be clear
“That the best laid schemes of mice and men
Gang aft agley
An lea’e nought but grief and pain
For promised joy”.
And if you decide to take place
Among the nations you must embrace
The ups and downs that will be
The life and times of the Scottish free.
The sections in italics are attributable to the great Scottish bard Robert Burns
The poems are
To a mouse
A man’s a man for a’ that
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation.