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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.
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.
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.
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.
Only a few industrious Scots perhaps, who indeed are dispersed
over the face of the whole earth. But as read more
Only a few industrious Scots perhaps, who indeed are dispersed
over the face of the whole earth. But as for them, there are no
greater friends to Englishmen and England, when they are out
on't, in the world, than they are. And for my own part, I would
a hundred thousand of them were there [Virginia] for we are all
one countrymen now, ye know, and we should find ten times more
comfort of them there than we do here.
The Scots are poor, cries surly English pride;
True is the charge, nor by themselves denied.
Are read more
The Scots are poor, cries surly English pride;
True is the charge, nor by themselves denied.
Are they not then in strictest reason clear,
Who wisely come to mend their fortunes here?
Give me but one hour of Scotland,
Let me see it ere I die.
- William read more
Give me but one hour of Scotland,
Let me see it ere I die.
- William Edmondstoune Aytoun,
It's guid to be merry and wise,
It's guid to be honest and true,
It's guid to read more
It's guid to be merry and wise,
It's guid to be honest and true,
It's guid to support Caledonia's cause,
And bide by the buff and the blue!
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.