Robert Burns

My dear, my native soil!
For whom my warmest wish to Heav'n is sent,
Long may thy read more

My dear, my native soil!
For whom my warmest wish to Heav'n is sent,
Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil
Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content!

Or were I in the wildest waste,
Sae bleak and bare, sae bleak and bare,
The desert read more

Or were I in the wildest waste,
Sae bleak and bare, sae bleak and bare,
The desert were a paradise
If thou wert there, if thou were there.

Morality, thou deadly bane,Thy tens o' thousands thou has slain!

Morality, thou deadly bane,Thy tens o' thousands thou has slain!

Oh, stay, sweet warbling woodlark, stay,
Nor quit for me the trembling spray,
A hapless lover courts read more

Oh, stay, sweet warbling woodlark, stay,
Nor quit for me the trembling spray,
A hapless lover courts thy lay,
Thy soothing, fond complaining.

And there begins a lang digression
About the lords o' the creation.

And there begins a lang digression
About the lords o' the creation.