And Wild-scatter'd Cowslips Bedeck The Green Dale.

Ah, Gentle Dames! It Gars Me Greet To Think How Monie Counsels Sweet, How Monie Lengthened Sage Advices, The Husband Frae The Wife Despises.

Dweller In Yon Dungeon Dark, Hangman Of Creation, Mark! Who In Widow Weeds Appears, Laden With Unhonoured Years, Noosing With Care A Bursting Purse, Baited With Many A Deadly Curse?

Be Briton Still To Britain True, Among Oursel's United; For Never But By British Hands Maun British Wrangs Be Righted.

The Snowdrop And Primrose Our Woodlands Adorn, And Violets Bathe In The Wet O' The Morn.

At Length His Lonely Cot Appears In View, Beneath The Shelter Of An Aged Tree; Th' Expectant Wee-things, Toddling, Stacher Thro' To Meet Their Dad, Wi' Flichterin Noise An' Glee.