Hear, Land o' Cakes, and brither Scots,
Frae Maidenkirk to Johnie Groat's;-
If there's a hole in read more

Hear, Land o' Cakes, and brither Scots,
Frae Maidenkirk to Johnie Groat's;-
If there's a hole in a' your coats,
I rede you tent it:
A chield's amang you takin notes,
And, faith, he'll prent it.

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.

In all my travels I never met with any one Scotchman but what was
a man of sense. I read more

In all my travels I never met with any one Scotchman but what was
a man of sense. I believe everybody of that country that has
any, leaves it as fast as they can.

It requires a surgical operation to get a joke well into a Scotch
understanding.

It requires a surgical operation to get a joke well into a Scotch
understanding.

Had Cain been Scot, God would have changed his doom
Nor forced him wander, but confine him home.

Had Cain been Scot, God would have changed his doom
Nor forced him wander, but confine him home.

O Caledonia! stern and wild,
Meet nurse for a poetic child!
Land of brown heath and shaggy read more

O Caledonia! stern and wild,
Meet nurse for a poetic child!
Land of brown heath and shaggy wood,
Land of the mountain and the flood,
Land of my sires! what mortal hand
Can e'er untie the filial band,
That knits me to thy rugged strand!

In short, he and the Scotch have no way of redeeming the credit
of their understandings, but by avowing read more

In short, he and the Scotch have no way of redeeming the credit
of their understandings, but by avowing that they have been
consummate villains. Stavano bene; per star meglio, stanno qui.

Now the summer's in prime
Wi' the flowers richly blooming,
And the wild mountain thyme
read more

Now the summer's in prime
Wi' the flowers richly blooming,
And the wild mountain thyme
A' the moorlands perfuming.
To own dear native scenes
Let us journey together,
Where glad innocence reigns
'Mang the braes o' Balquhither.

That knuckle-end of England--that land of Calvin, oat-cakes, and
sulphur.

That knuckle-end of England--that land of Calvin, oat-cakes, and
sulphur.