Robert Burns

O Scotia! my dear, my native soil!
For whom my warmest wish to heaven is sent;
Long read more

O Scotia! my dear, my native soil!
For whom my warmest wish to heaven is sent;
Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil
Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content.

Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.

Nursing her wrath to keep it warm.

I'll pu' the budding rose, when Phoebus peeps in view,
For its like a baumy kiss o'er her sweet read more

I'll pu' the budding rose, when Phoebus peeps in view,
For its like a baumy kiss o'er her sweet bonnie mou'!

In durance vile here must I wake and weep,
And all my frowsy couch in sorrow steep.

In durance vile here must I wake and weep,
And all my frowsy couch in sorrow steep.

Dare to be honest and fear no labor.

Dare to be honest and fear no labor.