O Flouer o Scotland,
Whan will we see
Your like again,
That focht an dee'd for,
Yer wee bit Hill an Glen,
An stuid agin him,
Proud Edward's Airmy,
An sent him hamewart,
Tae 'hink again.
The Hills is bare nou,
An Autumn leafs
Lies thick an still,
Ower land that is lost nou,
That they sae dearly held,
That stuid agin him,
Prood Edward's Airmy,
An sent him hamewart,
Tae 'hink again.
