Page:Bold mariners.pdf/6

 There’s wooden walls upon our seas,

And volunteers on shore, Sir.

The Nith shall rin to Corsicon,

The Criffel sink in Solway,

Ere we permit a foreign foe,

On British ground to rally.

Ere we permit, &c.

O let us not, like snarlin’ curs,

In wrangling be divided,

Till, slap! come in an unco loun,

And wi’ a rung decide it:

Be Britain still to Britain true,

Amang oursels united,

For never but by British hands

Maun British wrangs be righted.

For never, &c.

The kettle o’ the Kirk State,

Perhaps a clout may fail in’t:

But diel a foreign tinkler lonn

Shall ever ca* a nail in’t:

Our fathers’ blude the kettle bought?

And wha wad dare to spoil it?

By Heavens ! the sacrilegious dog

Shall fuel be to boil it!

By Heavens, &e.