Tae the lairds
i' convention t'was Claverhouse spoke
E'er the kings crown go down, there'll be crowns to be broke
Then let each cavalier who loves honour and me
Come follow the bonnet o' bonnie Dundee
Come fill up
my cup, come fill up my can,
Saddle my horses and call out my men
And it's Ho! for the west port and let us gae free
And we'll follow the bonnets o' bonnie Dundee!
Dundee he is
mounted, he rides doon the street
The bells they ring backwards, the drums they are beat
But the Provost, douce man, says "Just e'en let him be,
For the toon is well rid of that de'il o'Dundee
There are hills
beyond Pentland and lands beyond Forth
Be there lairds i' the south, there are chiefs i' the north!
There are brave duniewassals, three thousand times there
Will cry " Hoy!" for the bonnets o' bonnie Dundee.
Then awa' to
the hills, to the lea, to the rocks
E'er I own a usurper, I'll couch wi' the fox!
Then tremble, false Whigs, in the midst o' your glee
Ye ha' no seen the last o' my bonnets and me