Fareweel to a' our Scottish fame, <br />Fareweel our ancient glory; <br />Fareweel ev'n to the Scottish name, <br />Sae famed in martial story! <br />Now Sark rins over Solway sands, <br />And Tweed rins to the ocean, <br />To mark where England's province stands— <br />Such a parcel of rogues in a nation! <br /> <br />What force or guile could not subdue <br />Thro' many warlike ages, <br />Is wrought now by a coward few, <br />For hireling traitor's wages. <br />The English steel we could disdain, <br />Secure in valour's station; <br />But English gold has been our bane— <br />Such a parcel of rogues in a nation! <br /> <br />O, would or I had seen the day <br />That treason thus could sell us, <br />My auld grey head had lien in clay <br />Wi' Bruce and loyal Wallace! <br />But pith and power, till my last hour, <br />I'll mak this declaration: <br />We're bought and sold for English gold— <br />Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!<br /><br />Robert Burns<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fareweel-to-a-our-scottish-fame/
