Bonnie Dundee

To the Lords of convention 'twas Claver'se who spoke,
"Ere the King's crown shall fall there are crowns to be broke;
So let each Cavalier who loves honour and me
Come follow the bonnet of Bonny Dundee.

Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can,
Come saddle my horses, and call up your men;
Come open the West Port, and let me gang free,
And it's room for the bonnets of Bonny Dundee!"

Dundee he is mounted, he rides up the street,
The bells are in backward, the drums they are beat;
But the provost, douce man, said "Just let him be,
The Gude town is well quit of that devil Dundee."

As he rode down the santified bends of the Bow,
Ilk carline was flyting and shaking her pow;
But the young plants of grace they looked quite couthie and slee,
Thinking, luck to thy bonnet, thou Bonny Dundee!

Come fill up my cup, come fill up my can,
Come saddle my horses and call up my men;
And to the west port, and let us be free,
And some wear the bonnets of Bonny Dundee!

"There are hills beyond Pentland, and lands beyond Forth,
If there's Lords in Lowlands, there's Chief's in the North;
There are wild Duniewassals three thousand times three,
Will cry "Hoigh!" for the bonnet of Bonny Dundee."

"Away to the hills, to the caves, to the rocks
,- Ere I own an usurper, I'll crouch with a fox;
And tremble, false Whigs, in the midst of your glee,
You have not seen the last of my bonnets and me!"

Sir Walter Scott (1771-1832)

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