Scotland!--dear to him was Scotland,
In her sons and in her daughters,
In her Highlands,--Lowlands,--Islands,--
Regal woods, and rushing waters;--
In the glory of her story,
When her tartans fired the field,--
Scotland! oft betray'd--beleagur'd--
Scotland! never known to yield!
Dear to him her Doric language,--
Thrill'd his heart-strings at her name;--
And he left her more than rubies,
In the riches of his fame.