Farewell to all our Scottish fame,
Farewell our ancient glory!
Farewell even to the Scottish name.
So famed in martial story!
Now Sark [bad word] over Solway sands,
And [bad word] 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 disdain,
Secure in valour’s station;
But English gold has been our bane -
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!

O, would, or I had seen the day
That Treason thus could sell us,
My old grey head had lain in clay 
With [bad word] and loyal Wallace!
But pith and power, till my last hour
I will make this declaration:
'We are bought and sold for English gold'-
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!