Parcel of Rogues

Farewell to all our Scottish fame.
Farewell our ancient glory.
Farewell even to our Scottish name.
So famed in martial story.
Now Sark runs over Solway sands,
And Tweed runs to the ocean.
To mark where England’s province stands.
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation.

What force or guile could not subdue,
Through many warlike ages,
Is wrought now by a coward few,
For hireling traitor’s wages.
The English steel, we could distain,
Secure in valour’s station,
But English gold has been our bane.
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation.

Oh would or I had seen the day,
That treason thus could sell us,
My old grey head had lain in clay,
Wi’ Bruce and loyal Wallace,
But pith and power till my last hour,
I’ll make this declaration,
We were bought and sold for English gold.
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation.

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