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Such a Parcel of Rogues in a Nation!
TUNE--"Such a Parcel of Rogues in a Nation."
I
FAREWEEL to a' our Scottish fame, | |
Fareweel our ancient glory; |
Fareweel even to the Scottish name, | |
Sae fam'd in martial story! |
Now Sark rins o'er the Solway sands, | |
And Tweed rins to the ocean, |
To mark where Englands province stands-- | |
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation! |
II
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What force or guile could not subdue, | |
Through many warlike ages, |
Is wrought now by a coward few, | |
For hireling traitors' wages. |
The English steel we could disdain, | |
Secure in valors station; |
But English gold has been our bane, | |
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation! |
III
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O would, or I had seen the day | |
That treason thus could sell us, |
My auld grey head had lain in clay, | |
Wi' Bruce and loyal Wallace! |
But pith and power, till my last hour, | |
I'll mak' this declaration; |
We're bought and sold for English gold: | |
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!
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The Works of Robert Burns; with a complete life of the poet, and an essay on his genius and character, by Professor Wilson. In Two Volumes, Vol. I. Blackie and Son: Frederick Street Glasgow; South College Street, Edinburgh; and Warwick Square, London. MDCCCLIX, p.48.
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