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. –

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 famed 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 steel 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!

OCCASIONAL AND
BIOGRAPHICAL
VERSE

I’LL GO AND BE A SODGER

O, why the deuce should I repine,

And be an ill foreboder?

I’m twenty-three, and five feet nine,

I’ll go and be a sodger!

I gat some gear wi meikle care,

I held it weel thegither;

But now it’s gain, and something mair:

I’ll go and be a sodger!

MY FATHER WAS A FARMER
Tune: The Weaver and his Shuttle, O

My father was a farmer upon the Carrick border, O,

And carefully he bred me in decency and order, O.

He bade me act a manly part, though I had ne’er a farthing, O,

For without an honest manly heart, no man was worth regarding, O.

Then out into the world my course I did determine, O,

Tho to be rich was not my wish, yet to be great was charming, O.

My talents they were not the worst, nor yet my education, O,

Resolv’d was I, at least to try, to mend my situation, O.

In many a way, and vain essay, I courted Fortune’s favour, O:

Some cause unseen still stept between, to frustrate each endeavour, O.