Des Haught Gaul Invasin Threat?
does haughty gaul invasion threat?
tune—“push about the jorum.”
does haughty gaul invasion threat?
thehe louns beware, sir;
there's wooden walls upon our seas,
and volunteers on shore, sir:
the nith shall run to corsin,
and criffel sink in solway,
ere we permit a fn foe
on british ground to rally!
we'll ne'er permit a fn foe
on british ground to rally!
o let us not, like snarling curs,
in wrangling be divided,
till, slap! e in an unco loun,
and wi' a rung decide it!
be britain still to britain true,
amang ourselves united;
for never but by british hands
maun british wrangs be righted!
no! never but by british hands
shall british wrangs be righted!
the kettle o' the kirk and state,
perhaps a ay fail in't;
but deil a fn tinkler loun
shall ever ca'a nail in't.
our father's blude the kettle bought,
and wha wad dare to spoil it;
by heav'ns! the sacrilegious dog
shall fuel be to boil it!
by heav'ns! the sacrilegious dog
shall fuel be to boil it!
the wretch that would a tyrant own,
and the wretch, his true-born brother,
who would set the mob aboohrone,
may they be damn'd together!
who will not sing “god save the king,”
shall hang as high's the steeple;
but while we sing “god save the king,”
we'll ne'er fet the people!
but while we sing “god save the king,”
we'll ne'er fet the people!
tune—“push about the jorum.”
does haughty gaul invasion threat?
thehe louns beware, sir;
there's wooden walls upon our seas,
and volunteers on shore, sir:
the nith shall run to corsin,
and criffel sink in solway,
ere we permit a fn foe
on british ground to rally!
we'll ne'er permit a fn foe
on british ground to rally!
o let us not, like snarling curs,
in wrangling be divided,
till, slap! e in an unco loun,
and wi' a rung decide it!
be britain still to britain true,
amang ourselves united;
for never but by british hands
maun british wrangs be righted!
no! never but by british hands
shall british wrangs be righted!
the kettle o' the kirk and state,
perhaps a ay fail in't;
but deil a fn tinkler loun
shall ever ca'a nail in't.
our father's blude the kettle bought,
and wha wad dare to spoil it;
by heav'ns! the sacrilegious dog
shall fuel be to boil it!
by heav'ns! the sacrilegious dog
shall fuel be to boil it!
the wretch that would a tyrant own,
and the wretch, his true-born brother,
who would set the mob aboohrone,
may they be damn'd together!
who will not sing “god save the king,”
shall hang as high's the steeple;
but while we sing “god save the king,”
we'll ne'er fet the people!
but while we sing “god save the king,”
we'll ne'er fet the people!