The Book of Scottish Song/Such a parcel of rogues
Such a parcel of rogues.
[Written by Burns, for Johnson's Museum, to the tune of "Such a parcel of rogues in a nation." The song refers to the disgraceful manner in which the union of Scotland with England was effected, by the bribery of many of the Scottish nobles. The beneficial effects of the Union were long in developing themselves—indeed, for nearly the first fifty years, Scotland was positively injured by it; but, apart from this, Burns, like all true-hearted Scotsmen, could never think of the loss of his country's independence without a sigh of regret.]
Fareweel to a' our Scottish fame,
Fareweel our ancient glory;
Fareweel even to the Scottish name,
Sae fam'd in martial story!
Now Sark rins o'er the Solway sands,
And Tweed rins 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,
Thro' many warlike ages,
Is wrought now by a coward few,
For hireling traitors' 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, ere I had seen the day
That treason thus could sell us,
My auld grey head had lien in clay,
Wi' Bruce and loyal Wallace!
But pith and power, till my last hour
I'll make this declaration,
We're bought and sold for English gold:
Such a parcel of rogues in a nation!