O Scotia! My Dear, My

Morality, Thou Deadly Bane,thy Tens O' Thousands Thou Has Slain!

If There 's A Hole In A' Your Coats, I Rede Ye Tent It; A Chiel 's Amang Ye Takin' Notes, And, Faith, He 'll Prent It.

Gars Auld Claes Look Amaist As Weel's The New.

Gie Me Ae Spark O' Nature's Fire, That's A' The Learning I Desire.

Should Auld Acquaintance Be Forgot, And Never Brought To Min?