The Book of Scottish Song/The Dumfries Volunteers
The Dumfries Volunteers.
[This admirable patriotic song was written by Burns in April, 1795, when Britain was threatened with invasion by the French republicans, and should have for ever put to rest any doubts that existed regarding the poet's love of country or loyalty. "Burns enrolled himself in the bands of gentlemen volunteers of Dumfries," says Allan Cunningham, "though not without opposition from some of the haughty Tories who demurred about his principles, which they called democratic. I remember well the appearance of that respectable corps: their odd, but not ungraceful, dress, white kerseymere breeches and waistcoat; short blue coat, faced with red; and round hat surmounted by a bearskin, like the helmets of our horse guards; and I remember the Poet also—his very swarthy face, his very ploughman-stoop, his large dark eyes, and indifferent dexterity in the handling of his arms." The song was originally printed in the Dumfries Journal, and said to be sung to the tune of "Push about the jorum." It was afterwards set to music by Stephen Clarke, and published as a single sheet song. It for a time enjoyed an extensive popularity.]
Does haughty Gaul invasion threat?
Then let the loons beware, sir,
There's wooden walls upon our seas,
And volunteers on shore, sir.
The Nith shall run to Corsincon,
And Criffel sink in Solway,
Ere we permit a foreign foe
On British ground to rally.
O let us not, like snarling curs,
In wrangling be divided,
Till slap come in an unco loon,
And wi' a rung decide it.
Be Britain still to Britain true,
Among ourselves united;
For never but by British hands
Must British wrongs be righted.
The kettle o' the kirk and state,
Perhaps a clout may fail in't,
But deil a foreign tinkler loon
Shall ever ca' a nail in't.
Our fathers' blood the kettle bought,
And who would dare to spoil it?
By heaven, the sacrilegious dog
Shall fuel be to boil it!
The wretch that would a tyrant own;
And the wretch, his true-born brother,
Who'd set the mob aboon the throne;
May they be damned together!
Who will not sing, "God save the king!"
Shall hing as high 's the steeple;
But while we sing, "God save the king!"
We'll ne'er forget the people.