To Make Three Guineas Do The Work

For Gold The Merchant Ploughs The Main, The Farmer Ploughs The Manor.

O Scotia! My Dear, My Native Soil! For Whom My Warmest Wish To Heaven Is Sent

Oatcakes Are A Delicate Relish When Eaten Warm With Ale.

Affliction's Sons Are Brothers In Distress; A Brother To Relieve, How Exquisite The Bliss!

I Waive The Quantum O' The Sin, The Hazard Of Concealing; But, Och! It Hardens A' Within, And Petrifies The Feeling!