Fareweel to a’our Scottish fame,
Fareweel our ancient glory;
Fareweel ev’n to the Scottish name,
Saefam’d in martial story.
Now Sarkrins over Solway sands,
An’Tweed rins to the ocean,
To markwhere 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 bya coward few,
For hireling traitor’s wages.
The English stellwe could disdain,
Secure in valour’s station;
But English gold has been our bane-
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!

O would, orI had seen the day
That Treason thus could sellus,
My auldgrey head had lienin clay,
Wi’Bruce and loyal Wallace!
Butpith and power, tillmy last hour,
I’ll makthis declaration;
We’re bought and sold for English gold-
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!