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OUR AIN BONNIE ISLE!, by                    
First Line: Gae, gather your laurels, your sons o' my hame
Last Line: O' grandeur and glory, our ain bonnie isle!
Subject(s): Patriotism


GAE, gather your laurels, your sons o' my hame,
And rise like our eagles on pinions o' fame;
Your sinews are braced by the gales that blaw forth
Frae the rich caves o' Boreas 'neath snaws o' the north;
Where Scotia fosters, o'er mountain and glen,
Her fresh rosy lasses and braw sturdy men;
Surely Venus arose frae our waves, for her smile
Is bequeath'd to the maids o' our ain bonnie isle!

With a spirit in battle you stand till you "dee,"
And the same spirit bids you be noble and free;
For your ain Scotland's credit, integrity brings
The honesty deep frae your heart's purer springs.
When you meet frae your hames in ocht climes 'tween the poles,
Nae cauld selfish swither the passions controls;
Wi' the wring o' the hand come the tear-showers the while
Frae the leal warm hearts o' our ain bonnie isle!

Though the climes o' the sun ha'e their flow'rets o' bloom,
The warm balmy breezes are sick wi' perfume;
The snake's in the grove, and the birds canna sing
Like the warblers that waken our valleys o' spring;
And the fame o' their plumage, that echoes sae loud,
But charms like the gay fading scene in the cloud;
And the voice o' the patriot stands up for the soil
O' grandeur and glory, our ain bonnie isle!





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