Ye see yon birkie, ca'd a lord, Wha struts, and stares, and a' that; His riband, star, and a' that; A king can mak a belted knight, For a' that, and a' that, Their dignities, and a' that; The pith o' sense, and pride o' worth, Are higher ranks than a' that. Then let us pray that come it may— As come it will for a' that That sense and worth, o'er a' the earth, May bear the gree, and a' that; For a' that, and a' that, It's comin' yet for a' that, That man to man, the warld o'er, Shall brothers be for a' that! Caledonia. TUNE-" Humours of Glen." THEIR groves o' sweet myrtle let foreign lands reckon, Far dearer to me are yon humble broom bowers, Though rich is the breeze in their gay sunny valleys, And cauld Caledonia's blast on the wave; Their sweet-scented woodlands that skirt the proud palace, What are they?-The haunt o' the tyrant and slave! The slave's spicy forests, and gold-bubbling fountains, The brave Caledonian views wi' disdain ; He wanders as free as the winds of his mountains, Save Love's willing fetters-the chains o' his Jean. Dh, wert thou in the Cauld Blast. Он, wert thou in the cauld blast On yonder lea, on yonder lea, My plaidie to the angry airt, I'd shelter thee, I'd shelter thee: Or did Misfortune's bitter storms. Around thee blaw, around thee blaw, Thy bield should be my bosom, To share it a', to share it a'. 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 wert there: Or were I monarch o' the globe, Wi' thee to reign, wi' thee to reign, The brightest jewel in my crown Wad be my queen, wad be my queen. |